Everything Has Its Price
by TenshiXXX
Summary: To what lengths would your older brother go for you? Would he die for you? Kill for you? Whore himself out for you? Sasuke is about to find out. KisaIta, SasuNaruSasu, possible other pairings as the story progresses.
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first serious KisaIta fic. I have recently fallen in love with this pairing, for reasons I have not yet discovered. My portrayel of Itachi in this fic is not the usual portrayel. In this, he is not the mass-murdering psychopath his mask led us to believe, but he is the caring older brother that he truly was. I feel that I failed in portraying Kisame accurately, but I tried my best. Any constructive criticism is welcome._

* * *

It upset Sasuke to see his brother blaming himself for their losses. It wasn't Itachi's fault. It never _was _Itachi's fault. Yet Itachi always felt the need to shoulder the responsibility for their problems.

Their father's death wasn't his fault, and nor was their mother's. Itachi couldn't have known that his father would snap and kill both himself and his wife before setting fire to their home one day while Itachi and Sasuke were in school. Neither could Itachi have anticipated that the family company would be sold off in the wake of Uchiha Fugaku's suicide, leaving them destitute and forced to rely on the state to survive. It was only lucky that Itachi had a sum of money saved up, in case of emergencies, or they would have been packed off to an orphanage, and perhaps even separated.

Instead, they were able to stick together, with Itachi buying a small flat for the two of them.

Unfortunately, Itachi had been forced to drop out of college. Sasuke had been horrified when Itachi had revealed what he had done, but a single strained glance from his stressed out brother had quelled his protests. Truly, Itachi was under enough pressure as it was, and he didn't need Sasuke adding to it. But Sasuke hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut when, a few years later, his older brother had begun taking seedy jobs to support them both while Sasuke attended college on a Psychology degree.

Sasuke wasn't stupid. The people Itachi was associating with weren't exactly respectable members of society. A drug dealer, a tattoo artist who owned a strip club, a known mafia boss...

And now, apparently, a pimp.

It was obvious what Itachi intended. When he had worked with the drug dealer, he had dealed drugs. When he'd worked with the tattoo artist, he had worked as a barman. When he'd worked with the mafia boss, he'd been a killer.

Now he was working with a pimp, it was all too clear what Itachi was going to do to himself.

It hurt Sasuke to be so loved. Sometimes, he'd rather that he was hated, just so that his brother wouldn't do all of this for him.

"Don't do it," he whispered, biting back tears as he slumped to his knees before Itachi, wrapping his arms around his brother's waist, "I don't care about Christmas,"

"Sasuke," Itachi murmured soothingly, carding his long fingers through Sasuke's dark hair, "I must,"

"You don't have to!" Sasuke screamed, the tears spilling over as he sprang to his feet, "I don't want any fucking presents! I don't want any of this shit!"

"Language, Sasuke," Itachi admonished calmly.

"You won't be telling your "clients" that when you're whoring yourself out!" Sasuke bellowed back, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. Itachi was silent, his eyes fixed on the dark sky outside of their window. Yet Sasuke could tell that his words hurt. It took a trained eye to tell, but Sasuke had years of practice.

"Aniki-," Sasuke began with a small sob, his chest tightening with yet more guilt. When he looked up, Itachi smiled at him.

"Don't worry, little brother," he said, "I won't be...."working the streets", as they say. I will be perfectly safe,"

"Don't fucking lie to me!" Sasuke said venomously. His words could barely be understood through his tightly clenched teeth, "If you do this, aniki, you'll ruin your life. You'll get diseases and you could die,"

"Small concerns, I assure you," Itachi said with a ghost of a smile. Desperation clawed at Sasuke's insides like cold fingers as he tried to come up with a deterrent, any way he could get Itachi to cease this madness and get a job as a waiter or something...

But waiters weren't paid well, and, try as Sasuke might, he could not deny that they needed the money. Sasuke's college fees had decimated Itachi's savings, and they needed to pay for their utility bills, not to mention rent and food. But Sasuke would rather freeze and starve and get kicked out of college and _lose his goddamn home than_ let Itachi become a male prostitute.

He had to think of a way. Itachi was at the door almost. He was devastatingly handsome in his black shirt, jeans and knee-high boots, his dark hair in a ponytail. On most men, Itachi's thinness would be unpleasant. But it suited him. Sasuke felt yet a another pang of guilt as he realised that Itachi's constant refusal to eat so that he could pay for Sasuke's education had taken its toll. Was there nothing Itachi wouldn't do for his little brother?

Sasuke bit his lip until it bled. Itachi would have no trouble getting clients.

_I have to stop him!_ he thought. But how...?

"I'll leave!" he shouted suddenly as Itachi's hand froze on the handle of the door. The room was silent but for Sasuke's ragged breathing.

"Would you really do that to me, little brother?" Itachi asked, his voice dead. It scared Sasuke more than anything else that had happened tonight.

"If-If it would stop you from doing this to yourself!" Sasuke shot back. Itachi remained quiet for a short while. Sasuke began to tremble. He fought back the urge to growl. It was so cold in there. They didn't have the money to put the heating on.

"Would it be possible for us to come to a compromise?" Itachi spoke suddenly, still facing the door.

"That depends on the compromise," Sasuke said calmly. It felt so wrong to rage when Itachi was doing so much for him. It was yet another thing to add to an already overwhelming list of things he felt guilty for. He would pay his brother back tenfold when he became a qualified psychologist. Even if it killed him.

"I will take one client, and one client only," Itachi said, "The highest bidder. I should fetch quite an exorbitant price. Adding my...virginity into the equation, I think we will be comfortable until at least February,"

Sasuke nodded, his finger nails gouging the skin of his palms. He knew he would have blood under his nails, and the wounds stung.

Sasuke relished the pain. He now understood what those religious nuts thought they were going when they hurt themselves in payment for their sins.

"Go on," he said.

"In return, you will stay," Itachi said, "And you must remain enrolled in college until you finish your degree,"

"Ok," Sasuke said softly. What choice did he have? Itachi wasn't going to change his mind about this, and at least he had been willing to compromise to allay his brother's worries. Truthfully, Sasuke didn't want Itachi to become a prostitute at all. But Itachi was too stubborn, and this was better than nothing.

"Alright," Itachi said, opening the door. The frigid night air rushed in. Sasuke shivered.

Itachi paused in the doorway. The streetlamps made his skin glow orange and gave his hair a ruddy glow.

"Itachi?" Sasuke asked before his brother could leave.

"Yes?" Itachi said lowly. When Sasuke didn't answer straight away, he turned around. Under the streetlamps, his eyes appeared red. It was disconcerting. But his eyes were soft in a way that Sasuke's could never be, and Sasuke wondered at how truly lucky he was to have a brother like Itachi.

"Choose him carefully," Sasuke said, lifting his head determinedly, "And make sure he knows I'll force-feed him his own eyeballs if he hurts you,"

Itachi's ghost of a smile was answer enough.

The door shut with a creak and a soft click. Immediately, Sasuke scrambled over to the cell phone his brother had bought him in case of emergencies and typed in his friend's number on speed dial. His hands were fumbling so much that twice he had to retype the whole number. Finally, he did it correctly and the soft rings could be heard in his ear.

"Hey, Sasuke, what's up?" Naruto asked enthusiastically. Sasuke gulped.

"Sasuke?" Naruto asked, sounding concerned.

"Naruto, could you come over?" Sasuke asked, trying to keep his voice steady. His efforts were futile.

"Shit, what's happened?" Naruto screeched, sounding panicked, "Did you get kicked off the course? Is it the landlord? Has something happened to Itachi? What about-?"

He stopped as Sasuke let out a shaky breath and sniffed.

"Shit, what's wrong with Itachi?" Naruto guessed correctly. A sob escaped Sasuke's mouth.

"Are you crying?!" Naruto screeched.

"Tell anyone and I'll turn your balls into ramen," Sasuke growled, feeling much better for threatening Naruto. There was a pause.

"I'll be right over," Naruto promised. Sasuke didn't reply. He had already thrown his phone at the wall.

Itachi listened to the sound of the phone hitting the cheap plaster wall with a sigh. His eyes were closed as he composed himself before walking down the stone steps that led to their second floor apartment.

He wasn't supposed to be meeting the pimp until 8, so he had an hour to get there. He needed that hour if he was to walk there. He'd had the foresight to grab his worn but cosy coat on the way out, and he pulled it tighter around his body as a chill wind blew by.

He was cold. And it wasn't because of the frigid weather. The numbness that have stolen over him during the past few years had nothing to do with the chilly air. He would have liked to give up and just go to bed until the landlord came and threw him out for not paying the rent. And if it wasn't for Sasuke, he would have. But his brother was his responsibility, and Itachi would not fail. And so he pressed on.

There was a woman in the doorway of a bar, smoking a cigarette. She sent him a flirtatious look, but he pretended not to notice as he swept past. He would not sully himself any more than he had to. The mere thought of what he was about to do made him feel unclean. He resolved to take a nice hot shower when he got home, as a small indulgence. They would certainly have the money to pay for the bill, at any rate, and it would be nice to relax for once, even if the price was an undesirable one.

Itachi was also looking forward to paying for Sasuke's next college fee in advance, aswell as providing Sasuke with some Christmas presents and decorations this year. He hadn't been able to do more than put up a small tree and make a decent Christmas dinner last year. Yet it had been enough for Sasuke to be happy. He had fallen asleep against Itachi's shoulder with the barest of smiles upon his lips as they watched a DVD Itachi had bought on the way home from his latest job.

The sight had made Itachi's heart ache.

His inability to provide for the brother he loved was the reason he had allowed himself to sink so far. If it was for Sasuke, he would do it, no matter the price.

Itachi paused at a house with lights twinkling in the windows, a Christmas tree partially visible. The snow was packed up to the top step of the house, and a child had made a snowman outside, sticking its own mittens and hat on the snowman and using a potato for a nose. That was how Christmas should have been for Sasuke. Not spent worrying whether Itachi was going to be able to afford to get a turkey for them this year.

As Itachi travelled, he noticed that the houses were getting larger and more elegant. The sounds of drunken revellers and traffic faded away until he was alone in the ritziest neighbourhood in the city. This was where the elite lived- the wealthiest lawyers, the business men, the sports personalities.

He had lived here too, once. Back during a time when everything had been so simple and idyllic.

Itachi shook his head. It would not do to dwell upon the past.

He had memorised the address he had been given, and soon found the house he was looking for. Even so, he was taken aback and had to double check that he had chosen the right house. It was more of a palace than a house. Itachi hadn't been in a mansion for so long that he'd almost forgotten what wealth looked like.

With a glance backwards, Itachi walked up to the front gates that lead to the driveway. He had expected that he would have to gain entrance to the mansion before searching for the pimp, but the pimp was already waiting for him.

"Deidara," Itachi greeted stiffly. He thought he was justified in thinking that the blond, effeminate man looked more like the wares he advertised than the pimp he actually was.

"Just in time, un!" Deidara said brightly, "I thought you wasn't going to show up, un,"

"I need the money," Itachi stated. Deidara nodded. That explained everything. That phrase always did.

"So how many clients should I put you down for then, un?" Deidara asked. Itachi tried not to wince at the man's annoying habit of attaching that noise to end of every sentence.

"This one only," Itachi responded stiffly, "I do not wish to make my brother think ill of me. That is, I do not wish to make my brother any more upset that he already is,"

"He didn't want you doing it, un?" Deidara said, as though he had expected it. Itachi remained quiet.

"Well, un," Deidara said, clapping his hands, "This here is the house of Hoshigaki Kisame. I'm sure you've heard of him,"

Itachi inwardly grimaced at the thought. A celebrity? Deidara had neglected to mention that minor detail.

"He's got cash to burn, and he's paying us to keep quiet, un," Deidara said with a wide grin, "Afterall, we can't have football fans knowing that their icon pays for sex, un,"

"What does he expect of me?" Itachi said, wanting to press on and get this over with. He didn't care what football fans would think. He had never been interested in sports anyway, apart from martial arts when he was younger.

"He didn't say, un," Deidara said with a frown, "I though that, with the money he's offering-"

"How much would that be, exactly?" Itachi asked, wondering whether he wanted to risk it.

"Twenty-_thousand_, un!" Deidara said, almost bouncing with excitement. Itachi nearly fainted onto the snowy tarmac.

"That amount is unprecedented," he said. It seemed almost too good to be true. No other prostitute, no matter how high-class, (although Itachi felt that no hooker could possibly be defined as _high class_) had been paid that much before, as far as Itachi was aware.

"I know, un," Deidara said, "He laid that offer down as soon as I showed him a picture of you. How could I refuse him, un?"

"Is he clean?" Itachi asked. He wasn't jumping into bed with somebody who carried diseases, no matter how rich they were. Contrary to what he had said to Sasuke, he did value his life. Afterall, who would look after Sasuke if he died?

Deidara sighed and rolled his eyes, producing a slip. It was the results of Kisame's tests, which showed that he was clear of all mild venereal diseases aswell as the more serious ones, such as HIV.

"Thought you might say that, un," Deidara said, "I got him to take tests. I always do. It's why I'm so successful. My whores don't die on me. You can thank me with a quarter of your cash, un, since you're a friend,"

"Agreed," Itachi said, signing the contract that Deidara was waving in front of his nose after a quick glance to make certain that everything was in order. The amount of money that would be going into Itachi's almost depleted bank account would set him and Sasuke up until the middle of next year at least, if they were careful enough. Itachi would continue to work, of course, to bring in more cash that would benefit himself and his little brother. And he wouldn't spend more of this money than he needed to. At most, he was planning on spending around a thousand dollars this month, to give Sasuke a good Christmas for the first time in years.

He would have to do the work he was getting paid for first, though.

He followed Deidara past the security staff and up the long driveway. All of the lights were on, bathing the snow pale yellow. Deidara rang the doorbell with a grin while Itachi hung back, unsure of what to do.

A maid opened the door. To Itachi's surprise, she wasn't a young blonde French thing with a tiny skirt and a feather duster in her belt. Instead, she was middle aged and kind-looking, with an apron on over her jeans and a hair net over her mousy hair.

"Are you here for Mr Hoshigaki, dear?" she asked kindly.

"Yep," Deidara said, "He said to be here for 8, un,"

"What's the reason for your visit, then?" the woman asked gently.

"There isn't one, really," Deidara shrugged with a winning smile. The lady smiled, ushering them in and closing the door. Immediately, Itachi felt warmer. The maid took his jacket for him, and Deidara's long black pimp coat. According to him, he was "keeping with tradition". Itachi thought it was hideous, and had made sure Deidara knew that.

"I'll just fetch him for you, then," the maid said, once their coats were neatly put away in the coat closet near the door.

"She reminds me of my old mom," Deidara said with a grin as soon as she had left the room. Itachi ignored him. Nerves were beginning to set in, and he was afraid that he may balk and not go through with it. Then there was the fact that she reminded Itachi of his mom, aswell, and that was something he didn't want to talk about.

The maid soon returned with that pleasant smile still fixed upon her face.

"He's in the living room," she said, "If you gentlemen would just follow me?"

Itachi was secretly shocked that she didn't mistaken Deidara for a woman, as was the norm for most people. Deidara seemed pleased by that fact as he followed her inside, Itachi walking at his side. Allowing Deidara to walk in front implied that he was the leader. Itachi didn't want Hoshigaki Kisame to think that he was the average whore who just pan died about after their pimp like a wronged puppy.

As they entered a spacious room, Itachi was immediately struck by the festivity. There was a real tree in the corner, decorated in blues and silvers. From the ceilings hung garlands, which appeared to have been made out of real branches. Blue velvet bows and indigo baubles decorated them, with the occasional snowdrop making an appearance between the green needles. As a nice accent, there were frosty-blue baubles bigger than Itachi's head hanging in between the garlands, reflecting the dancing flames of the fireplace.

"Same colours as his football jersey," Deidara sniggered quietly. Itachi realised that he was right, at the same moment that he realised that Kisame had been in the room the entire time, and they had not noticed him. They did when the 6,4" muscular black footballer rose from a plush leather loveseat, putting away the book he had been reading. Itachi had never seen him without the blue make up he smeared himself in before games to make him look like his namesake before. The gill tattoos were present, though, as was the dyed blue hair.

"I was beginning to wonder if you would show," Kisame said with a grin. He was wearing a black suit with a navy shirt, Itachi noted with surprise. For some reason, he had expected a robe or something.

"Hoshigaki-san," Itachi said as he bowed in the traditional way, his Asian roots showing through. Deidara thought Japanese sounded cool, and so had come up with the name "Deidara" for himself, because it sounded Japanese. Itachi didn't even know what his name was previously, and, frankly, didn't care. However, he knew that Kisame _was _Japanese from hearing his name, and expected him to understand Japanese etiquette.

"Itachi-san," Kisame said, replying in kind before launching into full, slightly accented Japanese, "_You don't need to speak so formally, considering our intentions_,"

"_I am aware_," Itachi responded, also in Japanese, "_But I prefer to be polite_,"

"_That's why I was never any good at living in Japan_," Kisame grinned, "_All of that dancing around and bowing and trying not to scandalise everyone is irritating_,"

"Wow, Japanese is so cool, un!" Deidara interrupted before Itachi could reply. Itachi would have rolled his eyes, had he not been so polite. Kisame had not such reservations.

"You're easily amused, you know that?" he said, causing Deidara to pout. Itachi once again wondered how Deidara had become a pimp rather than a prostitute.

"Yeah, yeah," Deidara grunted moodily, "Just sign this and I'll be off, un,"

He produced the same rolled up contract, which Kisame signed without even looking at it. Either he was stupid, or he had already looked the contract over.

"Well, have fun, children, un! No sex after ten, and no crazy orgies, un!" Deidara said, taking the contract and practically skipping out. Itachi felt his cheeks redden slightly at the chuckle that earned from Kisame. Itachi sincerely hoped that Kisame hadn't intended for any orgies to happen, because Itachi wouldn't have been able do it.

He was drawn out of his musings by Kisame unzipping a suit bag and pressing the suit it contained against Itachi's body.

"Should fit," he grunted, to Itachi's confusion.

"What are you doing, Kisame-san?" Itachi asked.

"We're going out," Kisame said with a grin, "Put the suit on,"

"If it is not presumptuous to ask, may I enquire as to where we are going?" Itachi asked warily.

"A friend's gala. Well, I say a friend, but I don't like him much," Kisame answered, frowning. Itachi still hadn't put the suit on. He watched Kisame settled back down onto his loveseat.

"And why would that be?" Itachi asked, admiring the suit. Kisame had provided a thin, stylish black tie and a pale purple shirt with it. They would look good with the suit, Itachi decided, and he and Kisame would match quite nicely.

"He's a bit of a pervert," Kisame said, "I don't trust him. Don't stay with him alone. He'll probably try to drug your drink or something. Fucking politicians,"

Itachi nodded, accepting that answer. He didn't want to pry any more than he already had. He respected other peoples' privacy, as did most Japanese people.

"We are going to a gala," Itachi said slowly, stroking the material of the shirt. It felt like silk. It probably _was _silk.

"Yes," Kisame replied, sounding amused. He was a very attractive man, Itachi decided. When he wore that stupid paint, he was frightening. But, with his ebony skin on show, he looked much less like the demon shark he acted as during games, and more like the man he truly was.

"You paid for...sex," Itachi said, stumbling over the word.

"Oh, I'll get to that eventually," Kisame said, "I hope. Did you actually think that I would pay you twenty thousand for one time?"

"I did wonder whether it was too good to be true," Itachi conceded, inclining his head slightly.

"Well, what I really wanted was someone to take to this thing," Kisame shrugged, "The original price was two thousand for a one time thing. Prostitutes aren't generally good conversation, and I wasn't planning on keeping some whore around,"

"How am I different?" Itachi asked, unable to help himself.

"Deidara told me about you...and your brother," Kisame said, pouring himself a glass of something alcoholic from the bottle that was sitting on the table. Itachi stiffened in response.

"Do not pity me," he said, "I wouldn't like you to. But I will take your money regardless. I have little pride left, and I will relinquish it all for the sake of my brother,"

Kisame was silent. Respect gleamed in his dark eyes. He had discarded his white contacts, and Itachi found his dark eyes oddly captivating.

"If there was an award for the best brother, you'd take it," Kisame said, "Does your brother know how lucky he is?"

"I'm doing what I should be doing," Itachi said, stating the truth. Anybody who didn't care for their younger siblings wasn't worth their own skin, in his opinion.

"You're willing to sell your ass for your little brother. Not many people would go so far," Kisame said. Itachi nodded, averting his gaze as he began to slip out of his clothing to put on the suit. He made sure that his front was to Kisame, so that his long hair could shield his chest from view, and the faint bumps of his spine weren't on show. He wasn't dangerously thin, but he had lost enough weight for it to be noticeable.

"Besides," Kisame continued as Itachi buttoned his shirt, "Deidara said you were a genius. If you're not worth talking to, I don't know who is,"

"Deidara often exaggerates," Itachi explained, struggling with his tie. He had never worn a tie. Even the expensive private school he had attended had never forced him to wear one. It was a minor act of rebellion, and nobody reprimanded him for it because he was Uchiha Itachi.

"He told me your IQ," Kisame said, smirking when Itachi didn't answer, still fumbling with his tie.

It should not have been so difficult to do something so simple to most people. How many times should he wrap it around? And which bit when through which loop?

Huge dark hands overlaid his thin ones. Itachi stopped abruptly, lifting his gaze to Kisame's face. The man towered over him, but, strangely, he didn't feel at all intimidated.

"Need some help?" Kisame asked.

"I've never done this before," Itachi said in defence, letting Kisame tie his tie for him. Kisame "hmm-ed" answer. When Kisame stepped back, Itachi fixed the silver cufflinks and put on the suit jacket. But his hair was now a mess.

"Do you have a brush?" he asked. Kisame produced a comb.

"I knew you had long hair," he shrugged as Itachi fixed his black locks into a ponytail with a thin black elastic. He then slipped on the shiny black shoes Kisame offered him, which were still in their box and smelled new.

Finally, they were ready to go. Kisame offered Itachi his arm, and Itachi hesitantly slipped his own arm into Kisame's. He felt rather self-conscious about the size difference between their arms, but he reasoned that it was highly unlikely that he would see the people at the gala ever again, so their perceptions of him didn't matter overly much.

They walked out into the brisk night air, Kisame leading Itachi to the garage where he, like the majority of football players, kept a number of expensive cars. Itachi was dreading getting inside a big ugly hummer, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Kisame didn't even own one. Instead, Kisame opened the passenger door of a sleek black aston martin and gestured for him to climb inside. Itachi thanked Kisame quietly and slipped into the vehicle, almost falling asleep in the comfortable grey leather seats.

As they drove, Kisame was mostly silent, letting Itachi relax. They went past numerous houses decked out in lights, wreaths and snow, and Itachi found himself planning what decorations he would be buying, and whether Sasuke would get annoyed if he bought him an ipod _and _new clothes.

The thought of his brother's predictable tirade made him smile to himself.

"What's so funny?" Kisame asked, taking a left turn.

"I am imagining Sasuke's reaction when I buy him an iPod for Christmas," Itachi said truthfully, " I know he wants one so that he can listen to those angry songs he favours,"

Kisame chuckled, turning up the heat.

"And what will you be buying yourself with this money?" Kisame asked, appearing curious. He took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance in Itachi's direction.

"I don't think I will buy anything," Itachi responded after a silence. He hadn't actually thought about it.

"Why not?" Kisame asked, looking bemused.

"I can't afford to waste that money," Itachi explained. At Kisame's silence, Itachi turned to look at the man. They had parked up while they had been talking, and Kisame was staring at him. Itachi couldn't pick out his expression, because it was dark in the car, and Kisame was a black silhouette, like a cardboard cut out.

"Are you some kind of a saint or something?" Kisame asked finally. Itachi had no answer. They regarded each other in silence for a moment. Then Kisame opened the car door and let himself out before going round to open Itachi's door too. Itachi stepped out, watching rich people walk past, jewels gleaming at women's throats and men wearing suits which probably cost more than the rent for his and Sasuke's apartment.

Linking arms again, Itachi walked with Kisame to the entrance of the mansion, walking up the marble steps before stepping through the doors onto the veined marble floor of the hall. The place screamed wealth, and Itachi had the feeling that he wasn't going to like Kisame's "friend". Certainly, Kisame's house screamed wealth, but it was in a more refined, modest way, like a world-class athlete receiving accolades for their achievements with humility. This mansion seemed to go out of its way to throw status and money in people's faces. Itachi hoped that the house wasn't a reflection of the owner.

There was a butler by the door, dressed in the traditional butler garb one would expect to see in those films adapted from mystery novels. He offered to take their coats, to which both Itachi and Kisame declined politely. Itachi was a little bemused, as he wasn't even w_earing _a coat, and neither was Kisame.

"Maybe we can avoid actually talking to him," Kisame muttered out of the corner of his mouth after an hour of standing around and mingling. Itachi had, several times, seen people sneakily take pictures of himself and Kisame, and he knew, with utmost certainty, that they would be in the newspaper soon. Itachi kept a straight face, although he was laughing on the inside.

"Perhaps," Itachi said doubtfully in response to Kisame's earlier, wishful remark as Kisame led him over to a waiter, who had a tray filled with champagne flutes. He plucked two from the tray and handed Itachi one, who didn't drink it.

"I can hope, can't I?" Kisame grumbled as two men nearby began to mutter to each other, shooting glances Kisame's way. Kisame was easily one of the most famous guests in the room, and more and more people were starting to recognise him, despite the lack of blue face paint. It wouldn't be long before Kisame's friend honed in on him and came over to talk.

"Aw shit," Kisame muttered, "He's coming this way,"

"Want to hide behind me?" Itachi quipped dryly. Kisame, despite his annoyance, sniggered. Itachi smiled too- but it abruptly dropped from his face when he saw who was coming over.

"You are friends with Ashi Orochimaru?" Itachi asked, his fingers tightening on his glass.

"Bad blood?" Kisame asked, his eyes fixed on the figure who was currently making his way through the crowd, his pale brown, almost yellow, eyes alight with malice. Itachi glared back hatefully.

"Fucking bastard," he growled to himself, causing Kisame to choke on his champagne.

"Is that what you sound like in bed?" Kisame asked once he had recovered, grinning salaciously.

"I think we are both wondering that, Kisame," Orochimaru said with a wide smile.

"And one of you may continue to wonder," Itachi said coolly, taking a sip out of his champagne to calm his frayed nerves. Of all the people he could meet, he hadn't expected _this_....

"Would that person happen to be Kisame?" Orochimaru said, his voice alive with laughter.

"Certainly not," Itachi responded icily, to a chuckle from Kisame. Orochimaru smiled.

"A pity," he said softly. Itachi moved closer to Kisame in response. He had never felt comfortable around Orochimaru. There was something decidedly dirty about his gaze and the way he acted. Itachi remembered the arguments he'd had with his father over making Orochimaru their legal guardian should he die, knowing that Orochimaru would not hesitate to snatch the Uchiha fortune for his own ends. He had been right.

"How have you been, Itachi?" Orochimaru asked, stepping closer. Itachi was comforted when Kisame wrapped a large arm around his shoulders.

"Living a life of poverty, having been forced to drop out of college to care for Sasuke and with no reliable means of income," Itachi replied, his voice glacial, although he made sure to appear nonchalant as he spoke, "And yourself?"

An ugly look crossed Orochimaru's face, but he quickly quashed it. Itachi wasn't afraid, though. Kisame would not allow anything to happen to him, he was sure. And Kisame was more influential than Orochimaru. If Orochimaru tried to do anything to Itachi or Sasuke, he would lose a lot a of support when Kisame publicly proclaimed that he no longer backed the immoral politician. Itachi rather wondered how he was so sure of this, but he put it down to gut instinct, which had never led him wrong in the past. Even concerning the slippery snake that was Orochimaru.

"Oh, I'm doing well," Orochimaru said easily, sipping his own glass of red wine.

"Great," Itachi uttered sarcastically, with a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I am pleased to hear that the money you earned from selling off Uchiha Corporation has served you well,"

Orochimaru's cheeks flushed blotchily, until his sallow face looked like raspberry ripple ice cream. Itachi pretended not to notice and sipped his drink, feeling much better at having managed to upset Orochimaru.

"Tell me," Orochimaru said in a voice of honeyed poison, "How did you meet Kisame? I had no idea that he was into...slumming,"

"Did you not?" Itachi asked, "He certainly seems to be around you a lot- the lowest of the low,"

Orochimaru smiled a terrible smile, his long tongue sneaking out to trace over his thin lips. Itachi did not need to fake his grimace of disgust.

"How _is _Sasuke?" Orochimaru asked in a meaningful tone. Hatred, long forgotten, bubbled up in Itachi's stomach like acid. In a single motion, he grabbed Orochimaru by the collar and yanked him forwards until they were face to face. To the average onlooker, they looked as though they were two embracing friends. That couldn't have been further from the truth.

"One day, I will kill you for what you have done," Itachi vowed, "And I do not make idle promises,"

Orochimaru pulled back as though burned while Kisame laid a calming hand on Itachi's shoulder.

"Maybe we should leave," Kisame whispered to Itachi, stopping down and brushing Itachi's bangs out of the way with one gentle hand so that he could speak directly into Itachi's ear. Itachi shivered.

"You couldn't possibly leave yet, Kisame!" Orochimaru said loudly, pretending to look shocked, as though he hadn't nearly wet himself out of fear, "We haven't even eaten dinner yet!"

"Is it poisoned?" Kisame muttered to Itachi as Orochimaru swanned off, loudly announcing that dinner was about to commence. Itachi struggled to keep a straight face.

"He is much more subtle than that," Itachi admitted.

"I was hoping to escape so I could have an Indian takeaway tonight," Kisame grumbled, watching as the guests began to follow Orochimaru into the huge dining area, "I don't do this posh shit,"

"I too would prefer not to eat snails and fish eggs," Itachi agreed. With a glance at the dining room, which was packed, Itachi startled Kisame by grabbing the man's arm and pulling him away. Orochimaru had his back to the crowd, and didn't see them leaving.

"_Where are we going_?" Kisame muttered in Japanese, on the off chance that a stray guest would hear him.

"_To get an Indian takeaway_," Itachi responded in kind. The "duh" was left unsaid, as Itachi was much too polite to say such things. Kisame didn't reply for a moment.

"I love you," he said. Itachi, to his mortification, felt his face flame, and didn't respond. However, in the light spilling out of the mansion, he was fairly certain that this was answer enough. It certainly seemed to please Kisame, if his sharp-toothed grin was anything to go by.

"I need to return to Sasuke by 11," Itachi said as they walked back to the car, leaving the bright lights behind. It was much dimmer here, and Itachi felt less like somebody was shining a spot light in his face.

"It's...," Kisame said, checking his watch, "9:40 now,"

"I very much doubt that I will be able to give you what you paid for in that time," Itachi told Kisame worriedly. His concern became more pronounced when Kisame stopped walking. He wondered whether Kisame was going to call this deal off. Itachi highly doubted that he had what it took to blackmail people in an ordinary situation, but he was certain that he would be able to put aside his moral code once again in order to provide for Sasuke.

"You _gave _me what I paid for," Kisame said, as Itachi continued to watch him. He strode forward, causing Itachi to tense.

"I was under the impression that you were paying for sex," Itachi said as Kisame's large hand cradled his face. Itachi closed his eyes.

"I paid for good company at this stupid gala," Kisame said. His voice was quiet and soft for one who had a reputation for savage, animalistic displays on the field.

"This was not worth twenty thousand dollars, Kisame-san," Itachi said, bringing his own hand up, as though to push Kisame's away from his face. But he didn't. His fingertips gently rested on the broadness of the back of Kisame's hand, "I cannot, in good conscience, accept that sum of money,"

"As they say in England, I guess that's tough shit," Kisame said with a sudden bright grin. Itachi blinked. It was rare for him to show any signs of shock, but Kisame had struck him speechless.

"Kisame-san-," Itachi began, but Kisame covered his mouth with one hand. Or, rather, he covered the majority of Itachi's face with his hand.

"Let's make a deal," Kisame said, interrupting him. Ordinarily, Itachi would have been annoyed at the complete lack of respect, but, in this instance, he found that he really didn't care, as long as Kisame continued to touch him. He hadn't had any friendly contact with anybody other than his brother in years, and he certainly hadn't had any supportive contact for as long as he could remember. It felt nice, like sinking into a hot bath after a long day's work.

"I may or may not agree to this deal," Itachi said, nodding for Kisame to continue nonetheless.

"I'll see you 10 times between now and Christmas," Kisame said, "Each time, I will give you two thousand. Does that sound fair?"

"Not particularly," Itachi said dryly, "I am unable to see how this arrangement benefits you,"

"Itachi," Kisame sighed after a split second of hesitation, "All of my friends are obsessed with football. That's all they want to talk about. When people talk to me- fans, family, whatever- football is the only thing they want to talk about. It's fucking annoying. I need a little company of the intelligent variety,"

He paused, flashing another sharp-toothed grin.

"I'm more intelligent than people think I am," he finished.

"But you are not getting the...sex you paid for," Itachi said, stumbling over the word slightly. This was a testament to how truly nervous he was about this part of the deal.

"Who said anything about not getting the sex?" Kisame said, looking innocently confused, although his eyes said otherwise, "I'll have that ass eventually. I actually think _I'm_ getting the bargain. Sex with you on its own is worth more than twenty thousand in my eyes,"

Itachi did not know where to look at Kisame's words. Truly, he did not think he was _that _attractive. He actually believed that his looks had suffered somewhat over the past few years due to a stressful lifestyle and inadequate living standards. He knew he could still be considered relatively good-looking, but there was no way that he could have possibly been worth such a large amount of money. Sometimes, Itachi was jealous of his little brother for having managed to retain his stunning good looks while Itachi's had faded slightly. But that was to be expected. Itachi took care of literally everything in Sasuke's life, concealing their monetary problems to the best of his abilities and taking the most menial jobs to make sure Sasuke had a roof over his head and food on the table. Sasuke only had to concentrate on passing his degree.

"Your face has gone red," Kisame sniggered, snapping him out of his lamentations.

"Your language is vulgar," Itachi said haughtily in response. He couldn't be sure, but Kisame may have rolled his eyes.

"I've been told," Kisame said, opening the passenger door. Itachi realised only then that, during the course of their conversation, they had walked the length of the car park and were standing outside of Kisame's car. Itachi, embarrassed that he had been spacing out so obviously, climbed inside, biting his lip when his body brushed against Kisame's broad front.

"_Thank you_," he murmured with reserve in Japanese.

"Mmm, Indian food," was Kisame's response, "What do you want?"

"I'm not very hungry," Itachi said, not wanting Kisame to pay for him. He liked to be self-sufficient to a degree, and hated the thought of owing somebody something. That was why he hadn't wanted to take twenty thousand dollars from Kisame originally, but circumstance had forced him.

"You need fattening up," Kisame said, "You're eating something,"

Ah. So Kisame had noticed, had he? For some reason, it bothered Itachi that Kisame could see how thin he was. Itachi didn't ordinarily care what anybody other than his brother thought of him. Kisame was different. Itachi _did _care. It seemed unfair that the first person whose opinion Itachi had cared about since his parents had died had criticisms to make about his looks. It was a blow to his ego for sure. But he wasn't going to let it get to him. He had extraordinarily thick skin. The comments would slide off him like liquid off a cool glass.

But some liquids, like honey, were sticky, and wouldn't slide off no matter how much you wanted them to.

Itachi bit the inside of his cheek. Getting emotionally attached to this football player mere hours after they had met was slightly pathetic. It wasn't as though they would ever see each other again once this deal was completed anyway.

"Are you ok?"

"I am fine," Itachi responded without missing a beat. There. That was more like the real Uchiha Itachi.

"I wasn't trying to point out your weight when I mentioned it," Kisame said, to Itachi's shock, "I was just...concerned about your health,"

The football player's face was drawn into a tight expression as his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. It was rather amusing that Hoshigaki Kisame, the most famous face in football right now, was getting embarrassed by this talk of _feelings_.

"That is alright, Kisame-san," Itachi said.

The night was quite beautiful. Even the street lamps were kind of beautiful when the car sped past them. The orange blobs blurred into one another as Itachi pondered how Sasuke was doing. He guessed that Sasuke had probably called Naruto over, who would no doubt be able to take Sasuke's mind of the issue of what Itachi was doing right now. Of course, how he would do that had Itachi wondering. Itachi had the feeling that their relationship was not of the friendship variety. How soon they realised that depended on-

"You're still sexy, you know," Kisame blurted out gruffly, "Tell anyone I said that and I'll kill you,"

They stopped at a quaint Indian restaurant that sold take out, and ordered a gut-busting amount of food. It was almost too tasty, and Kisame watched in disbelief as Itachi ate enough for three people, while making sure to keep a large portion for Sasuke. He didn't expect Sasuke to eat while he was out, as Sasuke normally tried to avoid doing so. Although Sasuke didn't know the extent of their poverty, he was still aware of their lack of money, and often, following Itachi's poor example, he went without.

"Your bowels will be screaming at you tomorrow," Kisame laughed as they sat in the car later. Itachi frowned at Kisame's crude comment.

The drive to Itachi's apartment was, surprisingly, disappointingly short. Kisame followed Itachi's directions well, and they arrived in next to no time.

Itachi looked up at the window of their living room and was shocked to see that the lights were out. So Sasuke had gone to Naruto's, had he?

Kisame parked his car, despite Itachi's warnings that he was taking a risk in such a neighbourhood, and walked Itachi up to his front door. Itachi carried the bag of Indian food in one hand, at his own insistence, and his clothes in the other hand. He didn't know when, but Kisame had put his clothes in the car. He was grateful that Kisame had had the foresight, and had thanked him quietly when he had opened the car boot to reveal Itachi's original outfit. He did wonder vaguely when Kisame had had the chance to put it in there, but he didn't really care, so he didn't ask.

Unfortunately, because both of his hands were otherwise occupied, he was unable to get into his own pocket to get his keys out. He had slid them into his pocket when he had changed into these expensive trousers, and he could feel the cold metal against his thigh.

"Kisame-san?" Itachi asked, beyond embarrassment. He couldn't believe he was actually going to ask Kisame this.

"Need me to get your keys, huh?" Kisame said, grinning at Itachi's nod, "I've done that so many times myself..."

He didn't exactly give Itachi warning before he thrust his large warm hand into Itachi's pocket, navigating around Itachi's cell phone and brushing against his thigh.

Itachi bit his lip.

Kisame's hand paused.

Itachi felt a surge of arousal.

Kisame smirked.

Itachi bit his lip harder.

Kisame groped his thigh.

"Kisame-san, have you located my keys yet?" Itachi asked, his voice slightly strained.

"The keys?" Kisame asked, "Yeah, I found them a while ago,"

"Then...," Itachi trailed off, frowning at Kisame with disapproval.

"Who'd pass up the opportunity?" Kisame grinned, swooping down and pressing a lingering kiss on Itachi's lips. Itachi's fingers spasmed as he wondered whether or not to push Kisame away. He settled for allowing the contact. He would have to get used to it eventually, anyway, as Kisame had revealed that he planned on taking what he had paid for eventually.

It was only as Kisame pulled away that Itachi realised that his eyes had closed on their own. He felt embarrassed that he had sunk into the sensation of warm lips so readily. Luckily, Kisame didn't comment on it, although there was something in his expression that Itachi couldn't quite place, and instead thrusted a wad of notes into Itachi's hand. If Itachi had counted them, he was certain that he would have counted up to $2000 in crisp banknotes.

"_Thank you_," he said in Japanese, bowing slightly. Kisame shrugged as though he gave $2000 to people who were almost strangers every day.

"I'll pick you up at 8 tomorrow," Kisame said, "There's a party going on at _Black Sin,_"

"Alright," Itachi nodded, "Is there any particular way that I should dress, or-"

"Keep your hands off my brother!"

Itachi closed his eyes as Kisame turned towards the new arrival with amusement painted all over his face.

"So you're the little brother Itachi told me so much about," he said, "Sasuke, was it?"

Sasuke looked shocked that Kisame knew his name, but stood his ground proudly, his chin lifted and his eyes flashing.

"Keep your hands off my brother," he repeated steadily, his hands balled into fists by his sides.

"Sasuke," Itachi warned, before Sasuke could do anything that would lead to life-long embarrassment for both of them.

"I don't care how famous he is, he's not touching you!" Sasuke growled.

"Sasuke," Itachi repeated calmly, "Go inside. Nothing will happen without my consent,"

"Like hell I'll leave you with him!" Sasuke shouted, resulting in a light turning on in one of the other apartments as the person who owned it came to see what the commotion was about.

"_Uchiha Sasuke, go inside now_," Itachi commanded in Japanese. It was a final warning, and one he knew that Sasuke wouldn't disobey. With one last look of burning hatred, Sasuke stiffly turned and walked into their apartment.

"If you try anything, I'll know," Sasuke said as a parting shot, slamming the door to the annoyance of the old lady in apartment 12, who shouted in a quivering voice to make her displeasure known.

"Cute kid," Kisame said as Itachi willed himself to sink into the tarmac.

"He's entirely against my decision to whore myself out," Itachi explained, trying to make light of the situation. Kisame sent him a sharp look.

"I don't think any whoring is going on here," he said slowly, "At least, not yet. You're just acting as my date. No sex involved,"

"There will be some eventually," Itachi said, "I refuse to take such a large amount of money from you without giving you the service you paid for in the first place,"

The silence after his comment stretched on until Itachi actually wondered whether Kisame had fallen asleep while standing up. The overhead light nearest to their apartment had blown out, and Kisame's eyes were shadowed by his brow slightly. Itachi didn't know if he his eyes were closed or not.

Then Kisame leaned towards him and pressed their foreheads together. It was such an intimate gesture, the kind of thing only a couple would do. Itachi's breath froze in his throat.

"We'll see," Kisame said.

By the time Itachi regained control over himself, Kisame was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Unsettled by Kisame's actions and his abrupt departure, Itachi shifted his grasp on the clothing in his arms and, awkwardly, shoved the money into his pocket. Itachi had forgotten that money was capable of weighing so much.

The walk to his living room was a slow one due to the way he was weighed down with food and clothing. When he got there, there was only a single lamp on, which was normal for them. They tried to avoid using much electricity to save money.

Sasukewas sitting next to it in his customary, broody position, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of his face. Itachi didn't speak to him at first, and instead walked the short distance to their small kitchen to heat the cool Indian food back up.

"I don't like him," Sasuke announced, standing abruptly. He stood at Itachi's side, watching the microwave plate turn with a bowl of soft long grain rice and lamb curry in it. He was nearly as tall as Itachi now. A wave of nostalgia washed over Itachi, but he quashed it. Of course Sasuke would grow up. He was 19 now, and legally an adult in his own right.

"I _said_, I don't like him," Sasuke repeated, poking Itachi in the side. It appeared that, while Sasuke was growing up in body, his mind was not changing at all.

"Why do you not like him?" Itachi asked, deciding to indulge him. Sasuke looked at him as though he was an escaped mental patient but, nevertheless, answered.

"He's touching you," Sasuke spat angrily.

"He's paying me," Itachi said, taking the steaming food out of the microwave and passing it to Sasuke with a spoon.

"I don't care," Sasuke responded sullenly, stabbing into his food with alarming force and ferocity, considering the fact that the spoon he was eating with was blunt, "No amount of money is worth it,"

"Not even 10 payments of $2000?" Itachi asked seriously, sitting directly across from Sasuke at their tiny table. Sasuke stared at him as though he wasn't sure if Itachi was joking for once, his spoon freezing half way to his mouth.

"No," Sasuke said, giving up on attempting to figure out what Itachi had meant by that comment. Itachi reached into his pocket and pulled out the tightly bound banknotes. He threw them to Sasuke, who caught them with a dumb-struck look on his face.

"Hn," Sasuke said after a moment, throwing them back, "At least he knows you're worth a lot. How much is _Deidara_ getting?"

Sasuke spat out the blond man's name as though it was a foul-tasting liquid.

"$500 on this occasion," Itachi replied, "And $500 on every occasion thereafter,"

"He shouldn't be getting any of it," Sasuke snorted, "The little-"

"Language, Sasuke," Itachi warned in advance.

"I haven't even said anything yet!" Sasuke protested hotly, shoving a spoon full of delicious curry into his mouth.

"_Yet_," Itachi pointed out, to Sasuke's apparent consternation, if that look on his face was anything to go by. Then, he lost his expression of annoyance as realisation dawned on his face.

"Wait...," Sasuke said slowly, ""_Every occasion thereafter"_? "_10 payments of $2000"? _What do you mean by that? Don't tell me you're seeing him again!"

Anger boiled behind his dark eyes as he leapt up from his chair, slamming his palms down in the wooden surface of the table.

"You promised me that this would be a one time thing, Aniki!" he shouted, his voice likely penetrating throughout the whole building.

"If you will sit down and be quiet for a moment, I will explain," Itachi said calmly. He had learned, from his father's approach towards Sasuke, that shouting at somebody who is already shouting does nothing but cause the argument to escalate. Sure enough, Sasuke sat back down, poking at his dinner moodily.

"It was my understanding that I promised you I would sleep with the client once and once only," Itachi said, watching Sasuke carefully for any signs of impending explosion, "I have not yet slept with him, and he has made it very clear that he hired me for company alone,"

At the mention of Itachi not having had sex with Kisame, Sasuke's visage immediately brightened.

"That doesn't explain-" Sasuke started to say.

"If you would allow me to finish, you would discover why I will be seeing him 9 more times between now and Christmas," Itachi said, over-riding what Sasuke was about to say. When Sasuke made no more moves to talk, Itachi continued.

"I was uncomfortable with the prospect of earning so much money for very little reason," Itachi said, hearing Sasuke sullenly mutter _The bastard should be paying you more _under his breath, "Kisame-san wanted to allay my concerns, so he came up with this arrangement, which I then accepted,"

"And he hasn't hurt you?" Sasuke asked, his eyes sweeping over Itachi's body as though he was checking for signs of injury.

"No, he has not," Itachi said to silence from Sasuke. Watching him closely, Sasuke began to eat again.

"He still touched you though," he muttered through a mouthful of lamb and rice.

"So he did," Itachi said, "And he will continue to do so,"

"I don't want him to touch you," Sasuke said moodily, putting the last spoonful of rice into his mouth.

"So you have said," Itachi said teasingly, collecting Sasuke's bowl and poking him in the forehead. As was tradition, Sasuke rubbed the spot Itachi's fingers had assaulted and pretended to look annoyed.

"I think it would be best if you went to bed now," Itachi called from the kitchen as he washed the dishes, "We will be up early tomorrow,"

"Why?" Sasuke asked suspiciously, padding into the kitchen.

"We need to go into town for Christmas shopping," Itachi said, putting Sasuke's bowl into the dish rack. Sasuke offered no protest, disappearing around the corner and into their shared bedroom. Itachi stayed up a little longer, tidying up a little and getting their clothes out of the fresh laundry Sasuke had picked up on the way home from college so that they wouldn't have to waste time searching for something to wear tomorrow.

It was a quarter to midnight when he entered their bedroom. They shared a king sized bed Itachi had gotten cheap from a furniture store which was closing down when they had first moved into the apartment. Both Itachi and Sasuke had been uncomfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with their respective sibling initially, but they had soon gotten used to it.

Itachi quickly changed into his pyjamas and quietly went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He heard Sasuke make a funny noise in his sleep, and stifled a small smirk.

When he returned, Sasuke as spread out in the middle of the bed, and Itachi was forced to wake him so that he, too, could clamber into the bed. By the time Sasuke's sleep-muddled mind had comprehended why his brother was waking him up at such an ungodly hour, Itachi's toes and fingers were numb with cold. Apologetically, Sasuke scooted over until he was on the side nearest the window, raising the covers for Itachi to slip underneath.

"Shit, you're freezing!" Sasuke yelped, suddenly wide awake as Itachi's hand accidentally brushed his wrist when Itachi took the quilt off him so he could cover them up.

"I suppose I am a little cold," Itachi admitted, settling underneath the covers. There was one thing that could be said for their old bed- it was _warm_. He was drawn out of bliss when Sasuke grabbed his hands and began to rub them furiously in an effort to warm him up.

"_A little_?" Sasuke asked incredulously, "It feels like an iceberg just climbed into bed with me! You need to eat more!"

Itachi was, frankly, simultaneously amused and surprised by the fact that Sasuke was mothering him like this. The resemblance between Sasuke and their mother seemed more obvious than usual.

"I fail to see why my weight has any bearing on my body temperature," Itachi said, allowing Sasuke's actions.

"Your skinny ass has no fat to keep you warm," Sasuke grumbled, "Learn to fucking _eat_, Itachi, or I swear, I'll tie you down and _force_ you to,"

Ah. The similarities between Sasuke and their mother were looking fewer, all of a sudden.

"I highly doubt you could accomplish that," Itachi said, nevertheless liking the fact that his brother cared about him so much. He decided to ignore the fact that Sasuke's remarks about his weight did not effect him in the way Kisame's had.

"I'll have accomplices," Sasuke said darkly, sliding back under the covers and watching Itachi like a hawk in the darkness.

"I think my..._ass is_ the only place on my body that is not skinny," Itachi said musingly, to a snicker from Sasuke, who couldn't bring himself to be upset that Itachi had kept him awake a few seconds longer.

"_Good night_," Sasuke drowsily slurred in Japanese.

"_Good night, little brother_," Itachi replied in the same tongue.

The next day dawned bright and cold. More snow had fallen in the night, which Itachi discovered when Sasuke sadistically opened the curtains as he lay in bed.

"Whoops," Sasuke said cheerfully. Itachi glared at him balefully.

"I'll just make some tea and toast," Sasuke said, leaving the room.

"Don't," Itachi said, climbing out of his warm bed with a regretful shiver, "You'll likely burn the apartment down,"

"My cooking is fine," Sasuke responded as Itachi walked into the kitchen, where Sasuke was pushing bread into the toaster and turning the kettle on.

Sasuke didn't burn the toast. As soon as they had finished eating, they bundled themselves up in their scarves and coats and left the apartment. Their first destination was the bank, where Itachi put all but $20 of their money into his account. He didn't think it was wise to wander around the city with a pocket full of money. From there, they took the tube into the heart of the city, where they would get their shopping done in one go. Very few people were on the tube. An older man with a scrubby blond moustache ran his eyes over both of them with an unholy grin on his face.

"We're not interested, ugly," Sasuke sneered before Itachi could stop him.

Luckily, the man was just drunk, rather than psychotic, and looked embarrassed and angry as he shuffled to the other side of the train.

They got off onto a platform that was already becoming busy. It was only about 8am, but shopping started early this close to Christmas. Their first stop was a store which sold electronics. Itachi quickly spotted the iPods and sent Sasuke to find a CD he liked while he stealthily purchased a black one and an iTunes voucher on his card. When Sasuke returned, Itachi acted as though he had been browsing the DVDs, the iPod hidden safely inside his pocket. Sasuke had found a JRock CD he liked hidden behind a number of Culture Club CDs.

"Sasuke," Itachi said slowly as Sasuke presented it to him and told him where he had gotten it from, "Why were you looking at Culture Club CDs?"

Sasuke's cheeks reddened as he spluttered out something that sounded like _Just curious_.

When Itachi came to pay for the CD, there was an unpleasant-looking girl serving. She was the type who caked on liquid foundation until her skin was the colour of an overripe orange, and still thought she was attractive. She sent Sasuke a flirtatious look, which was ignored in favour of the band mug display next to her.

Itachi handed the CD to her without speaking.

"This is some, like, Japanese band, right?" she asked sneeringly, scanning it quickly and putting it in a bag, "Can you, like, even understand what they're saying?"

"_Of course I can, I'm Japanese_," Itachi responded coldly in his mother tongue. She blinked in bemusement.

"What did you say?" she asked.

"I said that you look like an orange in a wig," Itachi said coldly, to a snigger from Sasuke. She looked scandalised as he paid, and didn't once try to bat her eyelashes at Sasuke as they left the shop.

"Where to next?" Sasuke asked, glancing at the bag Itachi held, which contained the CD he had chosen.

"_Hot Rush_," Itachi said, referring to the clothes shop Sasuke favoured. Sasuke argued at first, not wanting to spend more money, but Itachi wore him down. He looked almost excited as they reached the shop. It was nearly empty. This was understandable, as it was a shop favoured by teenagers, the majority of whom were still in bed at 9am on a Saturday morning.

Sasukewas very careful when he picked out clothing, always going for the cheaper option when deciding. In the end, he chose an edgy yet stylish wardrobe for himself. The cost was just over $190. The sales assistant, a tall green-haired male with a lip ring, kept gracing Itachi with lecherous glances, all of which were ignored. Sasuke helped by sending the man a look of purest loathing. Nothing could match an Uchiha glare in ferocity, and the sales assistant quickly skulked away.

"I think he wet himself out of fear," Itachi said, hiking the bags further up his arms as they made their way to the nearest store which sold Christmas decorations. Sasuke wanted a black tree, but, a single look from Itachi later, he was happy with the six foot green tree Itachi had taken a liking to. Itachi refused to have something so gothic and depressing in their apartment this Christmas.

When it came to deciding on decorations, they were again at odds. Sasuke wanted to have red and silver decorations, while Itachi favoured the silver and blue style of Kisame's Christmas decorations. Sasuke only became more argumentative when Itachi told him that it had looked good in Kisame's home. He wanted Itachi to have as little to do with Kisame as possible.

Finally, Itachi allowed Sasuke to get his own way, reasoning that, as he had chosen the tree, it was only fair that Sasuke should choose the decorations. Both Itachi and Sasuke were in agreement that tinsel was incredibly gaudy, and chose a series of simple bead chains to go with the ornaments Sasuke had picked. They also made sure to buy the things they needed to wrap presents.

After this, Itachi had been ready to go for an early lunch before they made their way back to the tube station, but Sasuke insisted on making Itachi wait outside of an electronics store while he went inside and bought Itachi a Christmas present with the money he'd saved up from his busboy job. Itachi sighed, but gave in to his brother's wishes.

"Sasuke, why are you so slow?" he muttered to himself after ten minutes of waiting, wrapping his arms around himself to stave off the chill. He looked about himself to see if there was anything worth watching to stave off boredom, and discovered that a man and a woman seemed to find him very interesting indeed. He looked directly at them, hoping that they would get the hint and stop staring at him as though he was an interesting window display. They held a quick whispered conversation, and then they walked towards him. Itachi was confident he could defend himself if they became aggressive for some reason or another, as he had been a prodigious martial arts champion as a child and he still practiced to make sure he didn't become rusty. Nevertheless, the ceaseless staring was unnerving, as was their approach.

"Are you...Itachi Uchiha?" the woman asked, holding a newspaper in her hands. She stumbled a little over his name.

"Yes," Itachi said warily, "Why do you ask?"

She regarded him with wide eyes and an open mouth for a moment, as did her male companion. He recovered before she did.

"Are you dating Kisame Hoshigaki?" he asked urgently, as though it was a matter of great importance that he should know. Itachi made sure to show no outward signs of surprise.

"Where did you hear that?" he asked blankly. The woman quickly turned the newspaper towards him to show the front page of a national tabloid. On the front was a full-colour picture of Kisame brushing Itachi's hair out of the way as he whispered into his ear. The headline seemed to scream at him.

**DEMON SHARK NOT SO STRAIGHT AFTERALL**

_Kisame "Demon Shark" Hoshigaki of the NFL champions __**The Sharks has**__ taken the plunge into the unchartered waters of romance of a different kind._

_The football legend, known for his ferocity on the field and his dramatic shark persona, seems to have publicly come out about his sexuality after nearly a decade of consecutive girlfriends. Hoshigaki, 30, split from his latest girlfriend, model Anita Blackville, 6 months ago, and has since been seen with a variety of women. But this latest piece of arm-candy has left everybody scratching their heads._

_Japanese-born Itachi Uchiha, 24, is undeniably male. And a close friend, politician Orochimaru Ashi, claims that this is not a spontaneous occurrence._

_"Kisame has always been bisexual," he stated, "And people are only just starting to notice. Afterall, he doesn't exactly fit the stereotype of a man with a taste for his own gender, does he?"_

_Hoshigaki and his male lover were spotted together at Ashi's election gala last night. They wore matching suits, and shared many lingering glances and touches before leaving half way through. They were later photographed leaving a local Indian restaurant together, before Hoshigaki drove Uchiha back to his downtown apartment, where they parted after a kiss and a grope._

_"Kisame and Itachi are perfect for each other," Ashi said, "Not only do they have a common link through their nationalities, but they have shared interests. For example, I know that Kisame finds intelligence to be highly attractive, and Itachi's IQ could make the smartest of men feel envious. I haven't the slightest idea why he hasn't been inducted into Mensa yet,"_

_Very little is known about Hoshigaki's latest love interest. He is believed to be the eldest son of the late business tycoon, Fugaku Uchiha, who moved to the USA from Japan in the 90s, bringing his children and wife with him. Tragically, following the murder of his mother at the hands of his father, who committed suicide before setting their $2 million mansion on fire, both Uchiha and his younger brother, Sasuke, disappeared._

_"Itachi didn't want to be dependant on guardians to survive," claimed an anonymous source, "And why should he be? He'd be smarter than those guys put together! Plus, he was worried that he and his brother would be separated, which was not something he wanted to happen,"_

_It can now be revealed that, in the wake of the selling of the family business Uchiha Corporation, 15-year-old Itachi, who had been enrolled at a prestigious university due to his genius-level intellect, dropped out of college to support his younger brother and bought a downtown apartment with his savings. _

_"If there's one thing Itachi cares about, it's [his younger brother] Sasuke," a close friend of Uchiha's has said. _

_How he came to Hoshigaki's attention is still a mystery. But Ashi believes that he has the answer._

_"Put simply, chance," he said confidently, "They likely got lucky and bumped into one another somewhere completely normal, like the supermarket,"_

_**The Sharks have**__ not yet commented, and Kisame's management cannot be reached for questioning._

_"This is a private matter," __**The Sharks**__ coach Ted Briggs said in an unofficial comment to reporters outside his suburban home, "And I don't want none of you reporters sticking your stupid noses where they don't belong,"_

_**The Sharks**__ are due to play __**The Bears **__this Saturday. Hoshigaki will be team captain and hopes to lead his team to the top for the third year in a row._

When Itachi finished reading, he slowly looked up at the two strangers who were staring at him.

"Sorry for the wait Ita-," Sasuke said, coming out of the shop with a plastic bag dangling from his hand. He froze mid-sentence when he saw the strangers, and his eyes narrowed as he regarded Itachi's unsettled expression.

"What do you want?" he asked aggressively.

"N-Nothing!" the man said quickly, looking scared.

"Don't lie to me," Sasuke said, "You must want something, or you wouldn't be pissing my brother off. What...do...you...want?"

With each word, he stepped forwards until he was almost nose-to-nose with the man.

"_Sasuke, stop it_," Itachi sighed in Japanese. Immediately, Sasuke stepped out of the man's personal space, although he continued to throw burning looks.

"We were just wondering if he's really Itachi Uchiha!" the woman said, standing in front of the man protectively.

"Why do you want to know?" Sasuke asked, assuming a similarly protective position.

She didn't answer right away, glancing nervously at her male companion.

"We were just curious," she explained, "We saw the newspaper article and-,"

"What newspaper article?" Sasuke asked, cutting across her. Itachi wordlessly passed him the newspaper. Sasuke's eyes became wider and wider with each word that he read.

"_Itachi, what the fuck_?" he exclaimed in Japanese, "_You didn't tell me any of this_!"

"_I'm sorry, Sasuke_," Itachi said in the same language, "_I'll explain when we get home_,"

Sasuke seemed to accept his answer and rounded on the two strangers again.

"It's not about whether it's true or not," Sasuke said, sounding furious, "Keep out of other people's business!"

The two strangers looked shame-faced. Itachi noticed that they looked barely the same age as Sasuke, and the young woman appeared to be close to tears. Itachi took pity on them.

"Sasuke, stop terrorising them," he ordered with a frown. Sasuke heard him, but his glare didn't lessen.

"We're really sorry," the woman said, "Like we said, we were just curious, and I can't resist gossip,"

"You're one of _those women_, huh?" Sasuke asked coldly. She flinched.

"Sasuke, that's enough," Itachi said, his voice more forceful. Sasuke shut his mouth obediently, knowing that Itachi meant it this time.

"We really are sorry," the woman said, this time directing her apology towards Sasuke, "Can I get you some lunch to say sorry?"

"No thank you," Itachi said politely, "We need to finish our shopping,"

The woman appeared dismayed, but she allowed them to go with a weak smile.

By the time they returned home, it was 2 o'clock, and the shopping was heavy. Itachi still needed to go to the supermarket to buy groceries, aswell as a turkey and a Christmas pudding.

"This shit is killing my arms," Sasuke moaned, carrying the tree and decorations up the stairs.

"You're certainly not carrying the presents," Itachi said, noticing Sasuke's disappointed glare.

"Hn," Sasuke said, "Well, don't think you're seeing your presents, either. If I can't see mine, th- Holy shit!"

Itachi followed Sasuke's line of sight, and glaring at the reporters who were clustered around their door.

"Move," Itachi commanded. He was ignored as they began to clammer around, shouting questions and accusations.

"Itachi Uchiha, how does it feel to be the gay lover of NFL's most prominent star?" asked a rather portly man, almost thrusting his tape recorder into Itachi's mouth.

"How do you think it would feel to be beaten to within an inch of your life, dumbass?" Sasuke responded furiously, shoving the tape recorder out of the way, "Because you'll find out in a minute if you don't back the fuck up!"

For once, Itachi didn't comment on Sasuke's language, as it succeeded in getting the reporters out of the way long enough for Itachi to get his key into the lock and get himself, Sasuke and their shopping inside before they surrounded him again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

A strong cup of tea later, and Sasuke had calmed down enough for Itachi to hold a decent conversation with him.

"Those fucking bastards! If they don't leave soon, I'm going to go out there and beat the shit out of every one of them!" Sasuke raged quietly, gripping his cup with a white-knuckled grip.

Well, he was calmer than he had been, at least.

"That will not solve our problems," Itachi sighed, "I need to speak to Kisame-san, but I do not have his cell number,"

He picked up his clothes from the night before, which were sitting on their sagging sofa next to Sasuke, and resolved to do some cleaning to take his mind off the added stress. Would Kisame tell the reporters the truth- that Itachi was a prostitute of sorts- or would he lie and claim that they were together? He rubbed his temples and checked his pockets before he put his trousers into the laundry bag out of habit. He didn't really expect to find anything, and was understandably surprised when he found a slip of paper with a cell number written on it. It had to be Kisame's number. Itachi's mind flashed back to the moment when Kisame spent a little too long "finding his keys". He felt a twinge of arousal in his groin.

Pulling out his cell, he punched the number in quickly and waited as he heard the dial tone.

"Hello?"

"Is that Kisame-san?" Itachi asked.

"Yeah, it is," Kisame said. Itachi could hear him grin, "What are you calling for?"

"We are on the front page of a newspaper," Itachi said, deciding to cut to the chase.

"I saw," Kisame said, sounding completely unaffected, "And we're actually on the front page of every newspaper,"

"Does it not annoy or upset you?" Itachi asked curiously. He hated to pry, but Kisame was being very enigmatic, and this concerned him aswell.

"Of course not," Kisame said. Itachi could imagine him shrugging carelessly.

"And why is that?" Itachi asked haltingly, when Kisame made no move to continue what he had been saying.

"If I'm romantically linked to you, it solves two problems," Kisame said, "I don't have to find a date, and it allows me to come out. Plus...,"

"Plus?" Itachi asked, wondering why it hurt so much that Kisame thought of him as a tool.

"Plus, some of the stuff in the article was true," Kisame said, "You are the kind of person I find attractive. Orochimaru is known to be right on occasion, even if he is a bastard about it,"  
Itachi gripped the phone tighter, feeling a coil of tension unwind inside of him. He may still have a problem with reporters, but at least he knew that he was getting more than dirty money out of this arrangement. He liked Kisame. The man was different from most people. He was very blunt, to the point of being rude about it, and the way he treated his opponents on the field was, quite frankly, appalling. Yet he was kind to Itachi, if a little crass at times, and he didn't respond negatively to Sasuke as some would do in his situation. He was also an attractive and talented individual.

However, whether or not Itachi found Kisame attractive had little to do with the situation at hand. He was a prisoner in his own home, until the reporters left or he chose to give up. He needed to find a way out of this. He cursed himself for accepting Kisame as his one and only client, but knew it had been unavoidable.

"Kisame-san," Itachi said almost hesitantly, "I do not have the security to deal with reporters at my apartment. Is there any way that you could remove them from here?"

"Probably not," Kisame said regretfully, "I could offer to give an interview about us. But I don't want to say anything you wouldn't like,"

"If that is the only avenue available, please do," Itachi said, "I hope it isn't too much of an inconvenience,"

"Not at all," Kisame said, "I'll have to give an interview at some point anyway, to confirm that I like dicks and much as I like chicks. And they won't rest until they find out who you are and what your relationship with me is,"

Itachi winced. At which part, he wasn't sure.

"Thank you, Kisame-san," Itachi said quietly.

"No problem," Kisame said, "Now what should I tell them? I know you don't want them to know that I've paid you to date me,"

"Tell them...,"Itachi hesitated. Was he about to do what he thought he was about to do? He must have finally cracked.

"Yes?" Kisame asked, sounding worried, "Want me to go and get a pen and paper?"

"No, there is no need," Itachi said, "Tell them that we are dating,"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Itachi feared that Kisame was in shock or, worse, getting cold feet about the arrangement.

"Are you sure?" Kisame asked finally, just when Itachi had been about to call his name again.

"Quite sure," Itachi said, "There is no way to avoid giving the interview. And we need to keep this arrangement so that I will continue to earn the money for my brother. Not only that, but I think that both you and I would rather that the truth did not reach others,"

"Is that all?" Kisame asked, his voice mock-sad, "And here I thought you liked me, Itachi,"

"I do," Itachi blurted out, closing his eyes when he realised what he had just revealed. Kisame's peculiar laughter was his answer.

"I'm flattered, Itachi," Kisame said, "You're not so bad yourself,"

"It may only avert the problem temporarily, though," Itachi sighed, ignoring how much happier Kisame's admission had made him, "Perhaps even a few hours at the most,"

"Hmm...," Kisame said, "Why don't you and your brother come and live with me for a while?"

Itachi did not answer immediately. The suggestion was absurd. Itachi and Sasuke could not go and live with a complete stranger in his mansion, stepping into the limelight in the process. Itachi didn't want to be dependant on Kisame's goodwill. Before, it had been a simple business transaction: I'll sleep with you and you pay me. But, sometime since he had met Kisame the previous day- the previous day!- emotions had become involved, and he didn't like the thought of being without somebody other than his brother for once in his lonely life. He outright refused to become dependent on Kisame though. He had to look after Sasuke himself. Nobody else could do it so well.

But did he really have a choice, though? If they didn't get out of here, Sasuke would miss out on important college classes, and could fail his degree. And they really couldn't function if they had to stay imprisoned in their own home.

"It will be temporary," Itachi said to himself.

"What?" Kisame asked. Itachi blinked. He had forgotten he was on the phone.

"I said that it will only be temporary," Itachi said, "But...I can't be seen leaving. People will think that we have broken up, and I will not be able to give you what you're paying for. And the reporters will return, this time wondering what went wrong,"

Itachi massaged his temples. He didn't like stress, but he couldn't seem to escape from it.

"Then it will have to be a permanent deal," Kisame said.

"Kisame-san," Itachi said steadily, "You are proposing that a complete stranger and his little brother move into your home with you,"

"I know what I'm doing, Itachi," Kisame said, "It's no hardship, having your ass on hand 24/7,"

"Kisame-san," Itachi warned, to a deep chuckle.

"Can I tell the reporters sex stories?" Kisame asked, sounding childishly excited, "It will be more convincing that way,"

"Are you sure people want to know what happens in your bedroom?" Itachi asked.

"Does it have to be in the bedroom?" Kisame countered. Itachi had a sudden vision of Kisame wiggling his eyebrows perversely.

"Do what you want," Itachi dismissed him, sighing.

"This will be fun!" Kisame said gleefully, "Make sure your brother doesn't try to kill me, OK?"

"I will try to keep him from strangling you," Itachi acquiesced.

"I'll be round to pick you up in 20 minutes," Kisame told him.

"Wait, Kisame-san-,"

But Kisame was already gone, and Itachi had to pack. In 20 minutes. He could feel a headache forming behind his eyes.

"Who was that?" Sasuke asked, munching a banana. He made it look almost obscenely gay.

"Kisame-san," Itachi said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

"What does he want?" Sasuke asked, frowning as he followed Itachi into their bedroom, "And what's with the suitcase?"

Itachi looked up from the suitcase he was unzipping.

"Where is your suitcase?" he asked.

"Why do I need it?" Sasuke challenged, his dark eyes narrowing. Clearly, intelligence ran in the family and Sasuke was beginning to put two and two together.

"I think you know," Itachi said, beginning to neatly pile clothes in his suitcase. Sasuke made a strange noise that sounded like a laugh.

"No," he said, "No! I'm not moving in with him!"

"We have no choice, Sasuke," Itachi said, "Where is your suitcase?"

"We have a choice!" Sasuke protested hotly, "Say you've broken up with him! We could stay in here until they leave!"

"You know very well that that will not work," Itachi said, "Now, I will ask you once more: where is your suitcase?"

Sasuke looked as though he was about to argue further, but he turned on heel and went to their closet, pulling the suitcase out.

"I fail to see why you dislike Kisame-san so much," Itachi said as Sasuke violently began to pack.

"Because I know exactly what he wants from you!" Sasuke yelled, his eyes flashing red in the dim light. Itachi felt a pain in his chest at Sasuke's words.

"Does it matter what he wants from me?" he asked, almost regretfully.

"You're really going to let him ruin your life like this?" Sasuke asked, sounding dumbstruck. Itachi did not reply, continuing to pack his suitcase with his back to his brother. Sasuke, mercifully, didn't comment, although he did something that he hadn't done since he was a child: He came up behind Itachi and hugged him.

"You must have been Hitler in a past life or something to deserve such a shitty life," Sasuke said, his voice muffled against Itachi's shoulder. Itachi's silence stretched on.

"When's he getting here?" Sasuke asked, hating Itachi's lack of response.

"In...," Itachi looked at his clock, "Less than ten minutes. I will finish packing. Could you turn power off in the apartment?"

Sasuke, it seemed, was so glad that Itachi was speaking now that he instantly did as he was asked. This gave Itachi chance to slip the iPod and CD into his suitcase, and to pick up the two enormous bags of clothes that he had bought today for Sasuke.

"How are we going to get out?" Sasuke asked as he picked up his suitcase and one of the bags of clothing at his own insistence.

"The fire escape," Itachi said shortly, knowing that Sasuke would understand. By going onto their balcony, they were able to climb over the edge, dangle, and drop to reach the fire escape. It was terribly dangerous, but Sasuke had done it many times, especially when he was younger.

Sasuke went first. Itachi wanted to be able to catch him if he slipped. Luckily, Sasuke gracefully leapt onto the fire escape and caught their suitcases. Itachi came next, experiencing a dizzying rush of adrenaline as he launched himself into the air twenty five feet above the car park below.

"I don't see why we can't do this every time instead of staying with him," Sasuke said, clearly unable to resist.

"Because it is too dangerous," Itachi said, "Doing this multiple times increases the likelihood of death or serious injury,"

Sasuke grumbled but didn't say anymore. Itachi had won this argument.

Kisame arrived minutes later, this time in an attractive Mercedes. He looked as though he had recently come from working out. He was wearing a black tank top and some jogging pants. He picked up all of their luggage at once as though it weighed no more than a sack of potatoes, his muscles bulging, before carefully putting it in the trunk. Sasuke muttered Show-off bastard under his breath while Itachi averted his gaze as unwholesome thoughts about the uses of that strength flashed through his head. He had only met the guy the previous day, and already he was acting like a whiny girl with a crush. He was beginning to annoy himself.

"Are you good to go, then?" Kisame asked, holding the door open for Itachi. Before Itachi could sit down, however, Sasuke pushed in front and slid into the passenger seat, his expression daring either of them to say something.

"Defending your brother's virtue, kid?" Kisame asked, "Very wise,"

"I'm not a fucking kid, you-!," Sasuke began to respond.

"Sasuke," Itachi said, sitting in the back seat. Sasuke fell silent, although his glare didn't lessen in its intensity. If anything, it only became harsher. And Kisame seemed to find it immensely funny.

The front gates of Kisame's home were high, and the security at the front seemed to be succeeding in keeping the wave of reporters at bay. Kisame drove through the path security had made, and through the open gates. The windows were blacked out, but Itachi and Sasuke both had very sensitive eyes and flinched due to the camera flashes.

They made it to the garage. Kisame drove into the massive room, parking his car. He then opened Itachi's door for him, leaving Sasuke to get himself out. The doors were the kind that Itachi had only seen in movies. They opened upwards, rather than outwards, and framed the car like horns.

"How am I supposed to get this stupid fucking door open?" Sasuke bellowed, hitting the panels with his fist. Kisame came to the rescue and opened it for him. It was a furious and dishevelled Sasuke that clambered out.

"If only Naruto could see you now," Itachi said, receiving a hint of a blush and a glower in return. Kisame plainly got the joke.

"Naruto, eh?" he said, "Is he hot, this Naruto?"

"Shove it, you cock-muncher!" Sasuke snarled. He had picked up a few things from their time in England when they were younger, and one of them was creative use of vulgarity.

"Cock-muncher?" Kisame asked, "Are you giving me permission to-?"

"No!" Sasuke growled, "Stay away from my brother!"

Itachi could see that this was beginning to escalate already, and predicted that he would develop quite a few headaches in the future.

"Stop arguing," Itachi said authoratively. Mercifully, there was a ceasefire.

Kisame personally showed them where they would be sleeping. They both had their own rooms. Sasuke's was spacious, and his bed was engulfed in dark blue silk. There was room for all of his belongings, and there was a TV with a sound system and a closet as big as their bedroom in their little apartment. The bathroom was modern black marble, with an immense walk-in shower and a Jacuzzi bath tub which could probably seat 8 people comfortably.

"You did something right," Sasuke muttered, "Congratulations. Make sure Itachi's bedroom is near mine so I can hear you trying to sneak in at night, you pervert,"

Itachi suddenly found the nails on his right hand incredibly interesting.

"My plan's just been foiled," Kisame sighed, doing a good impression of sounding disappointed. In fact, Itachi wondered if Kisame was disappointed. However, what he was sure of was that his ears suddenly felt very warm.

Sasuke insisted on accompanying them to Itachi's room, and it was only when Itachi put his foot down that Sasuke, with much glaring and grumbling, remained in his room. Itachi cited his reason as "I am tiring of your petty arguing, and I think that you should remain apart for the majority of our stay here" but it was actually because he wanted to discuss this interview Kisame's management were supposed to be arranging. He didn't want to be the recipient of any unpleasant surprises in the form of a widely-read newspaper or magazine article.  
When they reached the room Itachi would be staying in, Itachi pulled Kisame inside and closed the door.

"Let me go and get the lube," Kisame quipped. Itachi felt the urge to hit him.

"We need to go over what you're going to say in the interview," he said instead.

"There's no need," Kisame said, "You'll be there with me,"

And so, three days later, Itachi found himself sitting in front of an ostentatiously effeminate man who never seemed to tire of remarking on how cute they were, and, _gosh, your hair is fabulous, Itachi- can I call you Itachi?_

They finished in just over an hour. The reporter left with assurances that their interview would be in the famous magazine he worked for, Touché, in the next issue, which came out in two days.

Then, Kisame spirited him away to a brightly-lit studio, where the pictures which would be accompanying the article would be taken. Not only had Kisame neglected to tell Itachi that the magazine was publishing a ten-page, full-colour interview, but he had also conveniently forgotten to mention that there would be pictures aswell. Pictures which involved them in compromising positions and outfits designed to show off their bodies. Itachi was, predictably, not happy.

"Why did I agree to this?" Itachi muttered against Kisame's shoulder as the female photographer (whom Itachi was almost certain was a lesbian) paused to reload another film. A chuckle was the answer.

The position they were in could have come from a teen movie. Itachi was facing Kisame, but was looking over his shoulder at the camera, his arms wound around Kisame's neck. Itachi's hair was loose, but did not conceal the fact that he was topless, jeans riding extremely low on his hips. The icing on the cake was the fact that the make-up artist had forced him into wearing a hint of mascara- mascara!- with the promise that it would compliment his eyes, and the fact that Kisame's hands were seated comfortably on his backside, thumbs in his back pockets.

Itachi hated life. And, apparently, life also hated him.

"I think we're nearly done now," Kisame said, in an attempt to console Itachi. The grin he was sporting caused him to fail abysmally.

"I feel like a fool," Itachi muttered resentfully.

"You look good," Kisame said.

"In comparison to you, I am skinny and pale," Itachi snorted. It was true. Kisame was uncommonly muscular, and the fact that he too was topless only served to create an unignorable contrast between their two body types.

"Everyone will be too busy staring at your ass to notice that you're pale and a little thin," Kisame snorted, squeezing a little for emphasis. Itachi would have kneed him in the crotch, but the photographer was ready to take some more pictures, and it was generally considered to be bad form to attack your boyfriend for touching you, anyway. Even if Kisame wasn't really his boyfriend.

They were late getting back to Kisame's home. Itachi didn't know if it was because of the bright lights or another factor, but he had a headache, which Sasuke noticed immediately. Itachi was sent to bed with some painkillers, bottled water and an apple- by his little brother.

He woke up the next morning in much better spirits. He knew that the magazine wouldn't be out until the next day, so he used the time he had to relax. He clambered out of his comfortable bed late in the morning after a few hours of lying there relaxing, and spent the majority of his day reading and lounging about with Sasuke. Kisame was absent, as he had football practice all day.

When night fell, Itachi decided to make full use of his zen-style bathroom. He slid into the warm water with a sigh that was actually more of a groan, feeling his muscles already beginning to loosen. He had washed his long hair before, and tied it in a loose knot on the top of his head to keep the bubbles away from it. His hair was one of the few things about his appearance that he still took pride in, and he didn't want it to be ruined by the bubbles, which could be very damaging to hair indeed.

After half an hour of soaking, he decided that it would be a good idea to get out of the bath and dry himself off. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to bring one of the luxurious towels Kisame had provided him with into the bathroom.

That was only his first mistake.

With a sigh, he let his hair down, slipped out of the bath, and, dripping wet, walked into his room.

"Shit!"

Itachi's heart leaped with fear as he froze half-way across the room. Slowly, with some dread, he turned his head and noticed two things at once.  
Firstly, he had neglected to close the door.

Secondly, Kisame appeared to have returned from training.

"Kisame-san!" Itachi said.

"You're...," Kisame gestured at his bare crotch with a grin.

"Look away!" Itachi commanded. Not only did Kisame choose to disobey, but he advanced towards Itachi, who could not have been more stationery had he been nailed to the floor.

"Kisame-san, I am not entirely comfortable," Itachi tried, covering his groin momentarily, before deciding that the act would benefit him little. Kisame had seen everything already, anyway.

Kisame's silence was more unnerving than any answer he could have possibly given. Then, he blinked.

"Sorry, Itachi-san," he said quietly, "Close the door next time,"

"My apologies, Kisame-san," Itachi said, still feeling awfully exposed. He could feel his hair sticking to his chest, and shivered slightly. The room wasn't the warmest, and the combination of his thin physique and wet skin left him feeling as though cold air was blasting onto him. But he couldn't rectify the situation yet; Kisame was near the door, close to the dresser where the towels were.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Kisame asked.

"I forgot to get a towel before I went to have a bath," Itachi said reluctantly. Why hadn't Kisame moved yet? Itachi needed to get a towel before he caught a cold.

"Here,"

Itachi's dark eyes pulled their gaze away from the handsome wine-red carpet to see Kisame holding a fluffy towel out to him. He didn't move to take it. He couldn't move to take it.  
Taking the initiative, Kisame crossed the room in a few long strides.

"You're like ice," he said, as he wrapped the towel around Itachi's shoulders. Itachi felt that the towel would have served him better had it been wrapped around his waist, but it seemed that Kisame was wary about touching him. Itachi didn't quite know how to feel about that.

"Thank you," he said, feeling warmer with Kisame's large warm body nearby. He smelled of sweat, grass, mud and something leathery. There was a pale smear of mud on his dark face. Without thinking, Itachi raised his thumb, sucked it into his mouth, and swiped that sliver of dirt off Kisame's face as he had done to Sasuke many times when they were younger. He sometimes did it now. The difference was that Sasuke became annoyed, while Kisame...

Kisame's thick fingers were gently gathering his sopping hair and wringing it onto the crimson carpet. Water pattered onto the floor like a short-lived rainstorm. Kisame's hands were clean, and smelled like soap. For some reason, he had washed his hands but not his body before coming home. He was a strange man. An intriguing man, but strange nonetheless.  
Then Kisame's hands left his hair and trailed around the back of his thin neck. He didn't like the sensation of fingers near his throat. It reminded him too much of the monster Orochimaru was beneath than carefully crafted veneer. But Kisame's hands were strangely gentle, and only skittered around the back of his neck like cobwebs before shadowing over his pale chest, disturbing water droplets, and then both hands were rubbing his arms in a curious repetitive motion of up and down, up and down, up and down...

"Can't you see it?" Kisame asked, his voice hushed as though he was telling Itachi a secret.

"I...don't know what-," Itachi began, feeling very out of his depth.

"You can't," Kisame said, his dark eyes flickered across Itachi's face as though he was searching something, "I didn't think it was possible for a man...but I was wrong,"  
"What are you talking about, Kisame-san?" Itachi asked, his hand clamping down on Kisame's left wrist.

Itachi felt that his senses were deceiving him. Because it seemed preposterous that Kisame's lips should be pressed against his own. He opened his eyes for validation- when had he closed them?- and was met with the sight of Kisame gently kissing him. When Kisame pulled away, Itachi was disappointed and, against his own volition, he reached up and pulled Kisame back towards him. But they did not kiss again. Itachi rested his forehead against Kisame's, his eyes closed and his hands on Kisame's shoulders.

Slowly, Kisame's arms wrapped around his waist, holding him close. And Itachi didn't care that he would most likely smell like a sweaty football player for the rest of the day.  
Itachi's eyes were still closed when the sensation of Kisame's closeness left him, and Kisame was almost instantly at the door.

"Kisame-san," Itachi called out to him. But he didn't know what to say, or why he had called out like that.

"I didn't think a man could be beautiful, Itachi," Kisame said with a quick grin.

Itachi was left standing in the middle of the room, completely nude and wet, with the peculiar desire to chase after Kisame, to make him stop and finish what he had started.  
Feeling shaken, Itachi dressed quickly in his comfortable thread-bare pyjamas and sat on his high canopy bed, legs crossed. He had little to do now, but he didn't really want to think about what had just happened. His eyes kept itching towards to the door as he waited for Kisame to come back, expecting him to return to continue the harassment he had begun. But he didn't. Itachi didn't know what he had expected. He shut the lights out and resolved to get some sleep.

The next day, he was shaken awake by Sasuke, who thrust a thick magazine into his face. Disoriented, he pulled himself up out of the thick duvet and sat up, pushing his hair back with one hand.

"It didn't work," Sasuke growled, "There are reporters outside,"

"There are less than there were, though," Kisame pointed out, walking into the room with a tray balanced on one hand and a copy of the same magazine Sasuke had given Itachi in the other. He set the tray down in front of Itachi. It contained a plate of bacon, eggs and sausage with some beans and toast. A cup of black tea was also balanced on the tray. It was rather more than he was used to eating, but, under the watchful eyes of Sasuke and Kisame, who seemed to agree only on the issue of his weight, he thanked Kisame and began to eat.  
"You seriously wore this?" Sasuke asked, staring at a particular page of the magazine as Itachi began to eat his sausage. Itachi noticed that Kisame had stopped looking at him, and didn't resume eye contact until Itachi moved onto his eggs. He tried to not to think about the possible reasons for Kisame's actions, because he knew that it would cause his face to feel unusually hot.

"Unfortunately," Itachi replied dryly after he had swallowed.

"Somebody inherited mom's ass," Sasuke teased. Itachi refused to give into the impulse to feel embarrassed.

"That would probably be you," Itachi said, "And why were you looking at that area of mother's body, anyway?"

"Shut up," Sasuke muttered, lifting the magazine higher so that Itachi couldn't see his face, "I was practically hip-high when she died. Besides, the boys at school used to call her a MILF, and talked about her ass a lot,"

Sasuke looked extraordinarily irritated. Itachi reached out and plucked the magazine from his grasp.

"Do you two look like your mom?" Kisame asked as Itachi carefully set the magazine aside while he put an egg on his toast and began to cut it into precise bite-size pieces.

"Sasuke moreso than I," Itachi said.

"Yeah, right," Sasuke said with a snort, "The only things I got from her is my colouring. You got her figure,"

"Yes, my curves are simply voluptuous," Itachi said dryly, wiping the small smirk off Sasuke's face.

"You know what I mean," Sasuke said sourly, "You got hardly anything from dad. Those lines under your eyes, maybe. Everything else is from mom,"

"My hair is different from both mother's and father's," Itachi pointed out.

"Yeah, I'm not quite sure what happened there," Sasuke conceded, stealing a piece of Itachi's toast, despite his desire to make Itachi eat more.

Itachi finished in next to no time. He felt pleasantly full as he set his tray aside on the bedside table and began to sip his tea. Now came the part he was dreading.

The front cover of the magazine leaped out at him. It was like walking into a patio door: jarring and slightly painful. It was a black and white picture of his and Kisame's heads and shoulders. They were both looking at the camera with identical intense looks in their eyes, cheeks touching and Itachi's hand resting comfortably upon Kisame's broad shoulder. Itachi's hair was draped over his shoulder, his eyes appearing darker than the darkest of nights. Kisame's expression was fiercely protective and possessive, his huge frame towering over Itachi's own and keeping him close.

"Stop admiring yourself and look at the interview," Sasuke said. He, plainly, had only looked at the pictures rather than reading it himself, and wanted Itachi to tell him what the magazine said. Itachi sent him a tight smile and opened the magazine to the page indicated on the contents page.

The left side of the magazine had a colour photo of Itachi standing side-on, leaning against some railings. This time, he was clothed. The stylish leather jacket was reminiscent of the kind that Michael Jackson had worn in the 80s, only less flashy, and his jeans were red and quite snug, (although Itachi remembered that they had not been uncomfortable) hugging his body in ways that were inappropriate, in Itachi's opinion. His hair was in its customary ponytail, although his glossy bangs framed his face. His eyes were closed, his lips parted slightly, as though he was simply relaxing. The caption above read:

**KISAME HOSHIGAKI- THE TRUTH IS OUT AND SO IS HE!**

It was too much.

"I think I would rather read it later," Itachi said quietly, setting the magazine down.

"You should probably read it now," Kisame said, "We're going out later,"

"Where?" Sasuke snapped, jerking his head around so fast that Itachi was, frankly, surprised that he hadn't done some damage.

"Black Sin," Itachi said before Kisame could respond.

"There's a team party on," Kisame said, shrugging, "To celebrate Hanley's girlfriend's birthday,"

"And Itachi's your date?" Sasuke asked, looking livid. Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Yes," Kisame said, looking as though he was enjoying being on the receiving end of Sasuke's anger a little too much.

"I want him home by 11," Sasuke said.

"Since when are you his father?," Kisame said, laughing loudly, "Daddy Sasuke,"

"Since Itachi decided that it would be a good idea to go on a date with a pervert like you," Sasuke snorted.

"I prefer to think of myself as a man with a healthy sexual appetite," Kisame reasoned.

"Yeah, you just keep your appetite away from my brother tonight," Sasuke said darkly.

"Ok," Kisame said, grinning a sharp grin, "So what about tomorrow night?"

"Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever," Sasuke ground out, "And have him back here by 11,"

"12," Kisame bargained.

"11:30," Sasuke countered.

"1,"

"What the fuck?! Why are you haggling higher, you freak?"

Itachi rubbed his temples.

"Stop it," he said, too exasperated to be angry. Immediately, both fell silent. Itachi felt like a mother scolding her sons.

"I'll read the article now," he said, "Although I was there while the interview was conducted, so I should already know what it says,"

There was no reply, but Itachi knew that, if he looked up, he would have been met with twin looks of anticipation. They too wondered whether the article made Itachi's and Kisame's fake relationship seem genuine.

With some amount of dread, Itachi opened the magazine once more and began to read the article.

_Kisame Hoshigaki doesn't exactly strike us as the kind of person to have a taste for men. Afterall, the footballer seems to be the meaning of the word "testosterone". But Touché can now reveal that the rumours are all true. In this stunningly juicy exclusive interview, conducted by veteran celebrity reporter **Adrian Geller**, Kisame and his lover, Itachi, bare all about the origins of this out-of-the-blue match up, how they have kept it a secret for so long, and what happens when things get heavy between the sheets._

Itachi stared at the magazine. Well, it certainly seemed as though their story had been believable. He wasn't sure that he wanted to relive Kisame's comments, though. But it would be better for him if he was able to know their answers off by heart. At the time of the interview, he had been too mortified to actually listen properly, anyway.

He tried to look at the words , but he couldn't. They were all lies. And lies that he wanted to be true. He didn't love Kisame. But he liked the man, and he was fairly confident that love would soon form if they began a real relationship. Yet it didn't seem as though Kisame felt anything other than pure lust for him.

The magazine crumpled slightly in his grip.

"Itachi?" Kisame asked, sounding concerned. It didn't make Itachi feel any better. He consoled himself with the thought that he would always have Sasuke.

It didn't feel the same.

"I'm alright," Itachi said, taking a sip out of his tea. Neither Sasuke or Kisame looked convinced.

"I'll bring the clothes you'll be wearing tonight later," Kisame said.

"Nothing of your choosing, I hope?" Sasuke said, giving him a side-long glare, "Itachi's not walking around looking like one of your whore cheerleader girlfriends,"

"Don't worry, all skin will be covered," Kisame said with a regretful sight, "Although, now that you mention it, the cheerleader uniform-,"

"I don't want to go to this party," Itachi said, deciding that, just this once, he was going to be a little selfish, "I would much prefer to stay out of the limelight for the time being,"

"I suppose we don't have to go," Kisame said slowly, looking agitated, "I'll just call up and cancel...,"

"Thank you," Itachi said quietly. Kisame's lips twitched into a small, uncharacteristically gentle grin in reply. Itachi looked back down at his clasped hands.

"Ok, that's just embarrassing," Sasuke said once Kisame had left the room, although he didn't appear too annoyed, "I can't believe you like that guy. Out of all of the people you could have chosen in the past, you suddenly decide to start mooning over him?"

"I'm not mooning over anybody, Sasuke," Itachi said evenly.

"Stop lying to me," Sasuke said, so calmly that Itachi wondered if he was going to look up and see a mirror image of himself staring back determinedly, "I've seen you staring at his stupidly oversized muscles, Itachi. There's no use denying it,"

"Sasuke, I would rather not have this conversation-," Itachi began wearily, despite the fact that he had only recently woken up.

"You never want to have conversations with me," Sasuke said stubbornly.

"That is not true," Itachi stated.

"No, maybe not," Sasuke conceded, "But you never want to have conversations about your problems, and then you expect me to tell you everything that's wrong with me. You're a hypocrite,"

"You're my responsibility, Sasuke," Itachi said, his fingers digging into his bed sheets. He really didn't like the ugly turn this conversation was taking, "I have to look after you,"

"I'm 19, Aniki!" Sasuke said, the volume of his voice escalating, "I don't need to be coddled! I could walk out of the door now if I wanted to!"

Itachi tasted blood as he gouged into his inner cheek with his teeth. So Sasuke would leave him too?

"Then go," he said coldly, "If you have tired of me, if you think I'm such a terrible brother, then leave. I won't stop you,"

Before he could stop it, a single crystalline tear slipped down his cheek. He tasted salt.

"That's not what I meant at all!" Sasuke shouted, having been struck dumb momentarily.

"Why would you say it if you didn't mean it?" Itachi countered, "You must be thinking such things, somewhere in your mind,"

"I've never even considered doing that!" Sasuke said, and it was a wonder his voice wasn't hoarse yet.

"Twice, you have mentioned it, Sasuke," Itachi said, voice soft, "If you want to leave, go,"

"I don't want to leave, for fuck's sake!" Sasuke roared, kicking the bedside table ferociously. It splintered as his foot went through it, "I just want you to stop acting like you have to be my messiah or something!"

He stopped shouting, panting slightly. Then, he was sitting on the bed right next to Itachi. Sasuke's thumb twitched before he galvanised into action and wiped the wet trail on Itachi's cheek.

"If you're my brother, then I'm your's," he said, sounding as intelligent as his grades suggested for once. Sasuke's only problem was that he was a very irrational person, with a ferocious temper- another of mother's traits.

"You always try to keep me away from all of your problems," Sasuke said, "And I've had enough,"

"Kisame isn't one of my problems," Itachi pointed out flatly.

"Your avoidance of talking about the obvious fact that you have the hots for him is a prime example of what I'm talking about," Sasuke insisted, "You know he'll only end up screwing with your life even more. He's already doing that, and you're not even involved with him,"

"Have you been hanging around with Karin again?" Itachi asked, "I cannot believe that you said the words "you have the hots for him" with a straight face,"

"There you go again!" Sasuke said, "Avoiding the subject,"

"I don't realise that I'm doing it," Itachi said truthfully.

"Then you must have gotten used to shutting me out," Sasuke said, "From now on, you'd better tell me your problems, so I can help. Or I'll hit you,"

The silence was like a dead weight, pressing down on Itachi's chest.

"I don't love him," he said at length, "How could I, when I have met him only recently? But I do like him. And I fear that, given enough time, I will inevitably begin to feel more for him,"

"That's what I was worried about," Sasuke said with a sneer that seemed to be directed at Kisame, rather than Itachi.

Kisame re-entered the room with phone in hand, and Itachi was forced to stay silent, letting Sasuke win that round.

"We're lucky," Kisame announced, "Hanley's girlfriend is obsessed with Japan. She's organised a Japanese-themed party,"

"And we were to be the star attractions?" Itachi asked dryly.

"Hanley always was wrapped around her finger. I'm not surprised he waited until the last minute to tell us,"

Itachi picked up the magazine, staring at the image on the front that looked so like him, yet couldn't possibly be him. Were his eyes really that intense, that wise, that...mesmerising? Surely not.

"I think it might be good for you to get out and enjoy yourself, Itachi," Sasuke said, blowing apart the silence rather spectacularly, "You can't become a recluse, just because your intelligence decided to desert you for a while and you thought it would be a good idea to move in with a celebrity. I think we should go,"

Itachi knew from the moment Sasuke started speaking that there would be a catch. And there was. It wasn't at all surprising that Sasuke was to be the self-designated chaperone for the night, to monitor Kisame with his hawkish eyes. Itachi was going to argue, but he'd had enough of arguing for today, and knew that Sasuke wouldn't give in.

"It's alright," Kisame said in a stage whisper, "I'm sure we'll manage to sneak away,"

"In that case, you'll have a burnt out shell of a car waiting for you when you return," Sasuke said darkly, "And if I catch you touching him...,"

He trailed off, the threat hanging in the air like a hanged convict. Kisame nevertheless smiled.

"It's not a traditional Japanese theme," he explained, changing the subject, "It's-,"

"Japanese popular culture," Itachi finished off.

"Actually, she likes street fashion and visual kei...," Kisame trailed off with a wince.

"Should we dig out the leather pants and hair spray then?" Sasuke asked sarcastically.

* * *

I haven't updated for a while, have I? This chapter isn't as good as I would have liked. I'm churning out really shitty fics at the moment, aren't I? I think I failed on the last part, I think. Don't worry, I won't offend anybody's minds by making Kisame wear VK fashion. But Itachi and Sasuke? I do so love to torture them.

**Remember to review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The fat on the bacon was already sizzling when Sasuke entered the expansive kitchen, his eyes half closed as he rubbed his messy hair blearily. He'd clearly been drawn in by the promise of Itachi's cooking. Itachi smiled slightly at him, proud that Sasuke had restrained the impulse to get utterly plastered the previous night. He liked to ignore the fact that Sasuke was too busy glaring at Kisame to go to the bar, and had nursed one whiskey all night long. Kisame, however...

Itachi had watched with exasperation and embarrassment as Kisame, like the typical testosterone-fuelled athlete, had participated in a drinking contest on a truly epic scale. Itachi's winces as Kisame crushed cans on his head went largely unnoticed. Kisame had won, but he'd been nearly incapable of standing by the time they had to go home. Of course, being Kisame, he had refused to leave until he'd serenaded Itachi with Hot Chocolate's "You Sexy Thing". Amid the laughter and catcalls, Itachi and Sasuke were left to drag 300lbs of muscle to Kisame's very nice car, while Kisame had one hand placed on Itachi's backside. Sasuke's threats did not act as any form of deterrent, and Kisame had laughed drunkenly while they got him into the back seat and buckled him up. It was only lucky that Itachi knew how to drive, even if he didn't have a license. He'd hoped fervently that they wouldn't be pulled over that night, because he knew he'd have been arrested on the spot.

By this time, Itachi had been so tired that he could barely remember getting Kisame to bed, or even how he'd managed such a task. Kisame was not the easiest drunk to deal with. Not only was he essentially a muscular skyscraper, but he seemed to lack any semblance of propriety when intoxicated, and had groped Itachi more often Itachi could count.

"Don't bend down. You might not like what I do," he'd quipped when Itachi had picked scattered clothes up off the floor, reminding Itachi that he was dating a _man_.

Itachi had slept in only his boxers, collapsing into bed as soon as he'd sluggishly tugged his socks off and slipped between the sheets. He had woken up at about ten and had decided that making breakfast for a hungry, hung-over Kisame and a perpetually grumpy, easily-angered Sasuke was probably a good idea, as it would keep the pair of them happy. Itachi was honestly starting to feel like a parent where those two were concerned.

A full fry-up seemed perfect. Sasuke would get his daily intake of tomatoes, and who _didn't _like pumping themselves full of fat and calories in the form of a full English?

"Black pudding aswell, Itachi?" Sasuke yawned, watching Itachi finish cooking the bacon as he added the mushrooms, fresh tomatoes and black pudding to the pan aswell.

"Why not?" Itachi responded.

"I don't have a problem with it," Sasuke said with a nonchalant shrug, "I just didn't expect this guy to have a fridge with anything more than beer and a hunk of mouldy cheese in it,"

"Perhaps you need to give him a little more credit," Itachi suggested.

"Itachi," Sasuke said flatly, stealing a chunk of tomato. Itachi hid a smirk as Sasuke's eyes watered furiously at the heat.

"This guy had a drinking contest last night and groped you in front of everyone," Sasuke continued once his mouth no longer felt as though somebody with a flamethrower was sitting in it, "And you don't even want to know what he said to that Hanley guy's girlfriend about you. Why is it so surprising that I see him as a guy who never grew out of his university days?"

Itachi didn't entirely register Sasuke rhetorical question. As Sasuke snuck a hand towards the pan with the intention of stealing more tomato, Itachi rapped him on the knuckles with the spatula.

"What was he saying to Hanley-san's girlfriend about me?" Itachi asked while Sasuke petulantly sucked his smarting knuckles.

"Hm?" Sasuke said cagily.

"Sasuke," Itachi warned, tipping the contents of the pan onto two plates.

"Don't make me say it," Sasuke complained. Itachi's flat look stated that, yes, Itachi _was _going to make him say it. He sighed.

"He made some...comments about your body, and...I'm not saying anymore. This is awkward enough as it is,"

Sasuke's face was awfully red, so Itachi dropped the subject and decided to see if Kisame remembered saying anything pertaining to Itachi's body when he took Kisame's breakfast up. If the comments were anything less than innocent (which was likely, as this was Kisame), Itachi would not think twice about refusing to feed him.

Balancing a steaming plate on one hand, he left Sasuke to devour his breakfast and silently trudged up three flights of stairs. Kisame's bedroom door was ajar, so Itachi nudged it open with his elbow, the soft sound of snoring reaching his ears. Shifting his grip on the plate, Itachi slipped into the room and walked to Kisame's bed, promptly feeling a very red flush stealing down his face as he realised that, sometime in the night, Kisame had apparently decided that it was too hot for boxers, and was now sleeping in the nude.

Itachi, oddly, wanted to tell him that it was the middle of December, so there was no excuse for his behaviour.

He didn't, though, and placed Kisame's breakfast down on a silver table by the bed, pushing an alarm clock out of the way. Kisame grunted in his sleep and shifted, the thick duvet slipping even further to reveal more flesh. Itachi's face felt hot.

"Kisame," he called, keeping his eyes on the falling snow outside the window. Kisame incoherently grumbled something and continued to snooze. Itachi was worried that, if Kisame didn't wake up soon, Itachi would soon be seeing parts of his pseudo-lover that he wasn't quite ready to see.

"Kisame," he called again, kicking Kisame in his exposed ribs. He knew it wouldn't hurt much, as he wasn't even wearing socks, so it was probably the shock that made Kisame sit up abruptly with an exclamation that turned the air blue.

"Itachi, rule number one of dating me," he groaned, one hand covering his aching eyes, "Don't do shit like that when I'm hung over,"

"And rule number one of dating _me_," Itachi responded, placing Kisame's breakfast in the man's lap, "Don't allow yourself to become so intoxicated that you wake up with a hangover,"

"Well, I can't argue with the wife," Kisame said, beginning to dig in. Itachi brought his elbow down onto Kisame's blue hair.

"What was that?" he asked flatly.

"Nothing," Kisame winced, silently eating his breakfast with his head down. His head was clearly sensitive due to his hangover, and Itachi could cheerfully say that he didn't feel guilty in the slightest.

"We don't usually have training on Sundays, but I do today," Kisame announced as he swallowed a mouthful of bacon, "I think they want to talk to me about you. So I won't be back until tonight,"

Itachi frowned, but didn't complain. It annoyed him that Kisame had rarely been in the mansion he called home since Itachi's and Sasuke's arrival, leaving Itachi to his own devices. Sasuke was already climbing the walls, proclaiming that he'd already memorised his psychology text books and there was nothing on the television to occupy him. But Sasuke was going to escape to class tomorrow, while Itachi would be stuck in this very nice prison with nothing to do but cook and bathe. He was starting to feel like his own mother, and that was a very depressing thought indeed.

"What's with the frown?" Kisame asked, gesturing at Itachi's face with his knife.

"Don't wave around sharp objects, Kisame," Itachi said exasperatedly, "You should know that from your pre-school days,"

"I was never a model student,"

Itachi dragged his eyes over Kisame's dyed blue hair, tattooed face and roguish grin.

"I would never have guessed," he proclaimed flatly, taking Kisame's plate from him and placing it on the spindly silver table while he brushed crumbs off the bed.

"Aw, Itachi made a funny!" Kisame said teasingly, seizing Itachi's wrist and dragging him onto the bed, mussing Itachi's hair. Itachi twisted in his grip, attempting to grapple his way free, but Kisame must have been bionic or something, because Itachi may as well have attempted to wrestle an orca for all the good that his efforts did him. All the while, he was sharply aware of Kisame's lack of clothing, and his own proximity to Kisame's naked flesh. He felt a mixture of desire and dread with every near miss of Kisame's crotch, feeling both buoyant and as though his stomach had plummeted through the floor at the same time.

"Kisame!" he finally shouted as the brute somehow rolled Itachi onto his back and then knelt above him, fingers tickling Itachi's ribs mercilessly. The discarded duvet was bunched up in front of Kisame's crotch, much to Itachi's relief, but he almost cringed at the thought of his brother innocently walking into the room to find Kisame's bare ass pointed in his direction.

"Aren't you cute?" Kisame asked mockingly as Itachi squirmed, forcing back the unmanly giggles and snorts he was apt at making when tickled. Sasuke was the only one who knew about that particular weakness, and ruthlessly exploited it.

"No answer?" Kisame asked with a grin, "I know you're dying to laugh. Come on, let it out!"

His fingers, quite by accident, brushed along Itachi's bared midriff, which had been revealed by Itachi's wriggling. Itachi immediately, much to his horror, let out a snort of laughter. Kisame's look of comprehension caused Itachi's eyes to widen.

"Interesting," he mused, attacking Itachi's belly. It trembled and clenched as Itachi valiantly tried to hold back, but, ultimately, the dam broke, and Itachi was soon an uncharacteristic laughing mess as Kisame's fingers assaulted his unprotected stomach. He tried to pry those hands off, but Kisame was strong, and Itachi was almost weak with laughter.

"Ki-Kisame!" he yelped, "Y-You realise that you are naked, I-I hope?"

"I'm hoping to traumatise your brother," Kisame stated, chuckling as Itachi's trembling hands tried to prise Kisame's fingers away. Kisame, having had enough fun for now, climbed off a breathless Itachi and, still naked, sauntered into the bathroom. Itachi's eyes followed him, even as his face assumed a colour appropriate to that of a strawberry. Kisame had a tattoo on his back, Itachi observed as he turned over on Kisame's bed, facing away from the bathroom. Kisame would definitely come back out of the bathroom without clothes on, and Itachi didn't think he would be able to handle seeing Kisame's naked front when his back had caused such a reaction. He really was a prude, he noted with vexation.

Kisame's bed was toasty warm. It was only now that Itachi realised that his toes were freezing, and the rest of his body was a little chilly too. The maid hadn't come in today, and it was likely that she was the one who turned on the heating in the morning. When she wasn't in work (which occurred only on sick days, holidays and Sundays, according to Kisame), it was likely that Kisame turned the heating on himself. As neither the maid nor Kisame had flicked on the heat, Itachi realised that the large house was a little chilly. It couldn't hurt to get under the covers for a while...

He dug his toes into the warmth as he pulled Kisame's thick duvet up to his chin. It smelled like Kisame's breakfast, sweat, alcohol and deodorant, with a hint of something that permeated the whole mansion which smelled like Kisame. Or did Kisame smelled like his house? Itachi didn't bother figuring that out, knowing it was pointless, and bundled himself up in the duvet more tightly. If Kisame came back suddenly, Itachi would act haughty, as though he hadn't done anything strange by commandeering Kisame's bed.

The bed really was warm. He could feel his feet warming up already, and smiled, closing his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Kisame chortled when he returned. Itachi sensed, from the direction and proximity of his voice, that he was standing directly beside the bed near Itachi's head. For that reason, Itachi didn't open his eyes.

"I'm stealing your bed," Itachi told him, "Could you put some clothes on?"

"Sorry," Kisame said, although he certainly didn't _sound _it, "My exes never minded, so I guess I've fallen into a bad habit,"

Itachi asked himself why he felt suddenly cold as their conversation turned towards the topic of Kisame's previous lovers, and then he decided he didn't want to know, and that perhaps it was best that he ignored the issue.

"It's not polite to talk about your exes with your current partner," Itachi said, "Is that not the cardinal rule of dating?"

"Yeah, but, we're not really dating, are we?" Kisame asked, sounding confused and awkward. Itachi, feeling as though the bottom had fallen out of his stomach, could picture him scratching his blue head. He had forgotten that their relationship was purely a business transaction. He smiled wryly to himself. They'd been so convincing that Itachi had tricked himself.

"Itachi?" Kisame asked, and Itachi realised that he hadn't responded to Kisame's question.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Move over,"

"Ah," Itachi said with a smirk, "The whole idea of theft is that I do not relinquish ownership to the original owner. Meaning that my answer is no, unfortunately,"

He smugly burrowed further under the covers until only his nose and upwards was visible, breathing the scent of the duvet. Kisame, far from being offended, was laughing loudly.

"Aren't we in a playful mood today?" he said. Itachi ignored him and closed his eyes, only to open them again when the duvet was snatched from him.

"Move over," Kisame said, already sitting his bare ass on the bed. Feeling disgruntled, Itachi refused.

"Not until you put on some clothes," he insisted.

"Alright, alright," Kisame said placatingly. After a beat, he said: "Done,"

Reluctantly, Itachi rolled over into the middle of the bed, not quite ready to give up the warm bed just yet. Kisame's bulk settled down next to him and lowered the blissfully toasty covers back over them again. His forearm had come to rest on Itachi's thigh, but he didn't move away, and Itachi didn't force him to.

"You are not wearing anything, are you?"

"I lied," Kisame admitted. Itachi scooted closer to the wall, but Kisame followed, in a blatant effort to annoy and embarrass Itachi. It was working.

"Kisame, put some clothes on!" he said, scandalised.

"I don't think I've heard you have such a tantrum before," Kisame sniggered, poking Itachi in the side.

"I suppose you find it unbearably funny?" Itachi asked, a tad dryly. Kisame's response was more laughter.

"We're both guys, Itachi," he said when it became clear that Itachi didn't really share his amusement, "I don't know why you're so upset,"

Itachi couldn't answer that question. He was Japanese, and, in his country, it was common for families to bathe together, which is often what Itachi and Sasuke had done as children until they'd moved to America, where it was considered to be a bizarre practice. Added to that, there were many traditional onsens in Japan, which Itachi had been to back when he was rich out of respect for his Japanese blood, and out of curiosity. Nevertheless, the idea of a naked Kisame was one that sent hot blood rushing to his cheeks, and to other, lower places.

"Kisame!" Sasuke bellowed angrily, interrupting the flow of Itachi's thoughts, "There's an albino freak here to see you!"

He stalked into the room without knocking, throwing the door open so that it slammed against the wall and bounced off again. He blinked slowly, his text book dangling in his lax grip. Itachi only then realised what it must have looked like. Him and Kisame were in the massive bed. Itachi was lying on his back with his long hair spread across the pillow as Kisame leaned over him, clearly lacking clothing.

"Where's your bathroom?" Sasuke asked finally, looking ill, "I need to puke,"

"Who is here?" Itachi asked, climbing out of Kisame's warm bed with regret. He made certain that the duvet covered Kisame's lower body as he slipped out, not wanting to give Sasuke a heart attack at the age of nineteen.

Sasuke visibly relaxed when Itachi emerged fully clothed.

"I don't know," Sasuke said, looking annoyed at the reminder of this individual, "He says he's your nephew,"

He looked at Kisame, who groaned, uttering several choice swear words that had Itachi's lips twitching, despite his disapproval.

"He's definitely annoying enough to be related to you," Sasuke said.

"His name's Suigetsu," Kisame explained, leaning over the side of the bed to grasp the boxer shorts Itachi had folded last night, "If he pisses you off, feel free to punch the little snot,"

Sasuke looked more than pleased at the prospect. This probably meant that Itachi would end up having to stop Sasuke from maiming two people now, rather than one. It was going to be challenging. Let it never be said that Sasuke didn't have good aim. He'd once killed a dog that had attacked his cat when he was eight by throwing a letter opener at it, with unerring accuracy.

Kisame pulled his shorts on while beneath the covers, proving that he did intend to listen to Itachi's concerns about his habit of walking around naked, and climbed out of the bed, stretching. Itachi's eyes were immediately drawn to Kisame's impressive upper body, and he was only drawn out of his observations when Sasuke smacked him on the arm.

"I suppose we can't leave the little bastard alone for too long," Kisame said, displeased, "He'd probably break something,"

Suigetsu, it turned out, was an albino, as Sasuke had claimed. His skin was incredibly pale, although he wore contact lenses that, along with his lank dyed hair, gave him a distinct resemblance to a fish.

He was in the hall, standing on a table to poke at the blue baubles that hung from the roof as he sucked on an enormous rainbow lolly. Itachi raised an eyebrow. Kisame groaned. Sasuke snorted mockingly.

"Heya, big guy," Suigetsu said, not even embarrassed that he'd been caught in such a position. He leapt off the table, and stood in front of Kisame, grinning. He was rather short in comparison, and weedy.

"Ma sent me here for the holidays. Hope you don't mind," he said, licking his lolly.

"She didn't think of asking me?"

"She thought you'd refuse, for some reason," Suigetsu said, with a wide grin. Itachi and Sasuke stared at those teeth, which had been filed to sharp points, "And she's heard things,"

"What things?" Kisame asked, although, from his tone, it was plain that he knew "what things" his sister had heard.

"Oh, just a few rumours at first," Suigetsu grinned, watching Itachi and Sasuke, "But then there was that interview in that magazine, and Ma wanted to know more. She's upset you won't answer her questions,"

"So she sent you, hoping you'd piss me off so much that I'd either cave, or beat you black and blue and get arrested?"

"Indeedy," Suigetsu quipped. If Kisame was a shark, he was a piranha: all teeth and smiles and deadliness, yet with none of the bulk of a shark. His eyes roved over them again.

"Hello there," he said to Itachi abruptly, "You must be my uncle's elusive lover. So this is where you've been hiding out then?"

He looked Itachi up and down pointedly. Itachi gripped Sasuke's arm to stop him from punching the toothy brat in his smug face.

"I have to say," Suigetsu said, "My uncle knows how to pick em. You Asian?"

"Yes," Itachi said coolly.

"Thought so," Suigetsu said, "They tend to find themselves lacking in the penis area, but they have the best asses, eh?"

He licked his lolly again. Itachi was nearly wrestling with a very homicidal Sasuke by now, and was actually tempted to let go.

"Yes, because I'm sure those tight trousers are concealing an anaconda," Itachi said dryly, looking down his nose at Suigetsu's crotch pointedly. Rather than flying into a rage, Suigetsu grinned.

"Ok, you pass," he chortled, "That was a nice comeback. Cold, but nice. Seriously, though Asians have the best asses. It must be the martial arts and kickass ninja shit. What's you're name, sweetie?"

Sasuke glare could have frozen Suigetsu and then boiled him in his skin in an instant.

"His name is Sasuke," Itachi said, "Don't anger him. He has very good aim, and I'm afraid that the Psychology text book he is holding is hardback and is rather heavy,"

"I can dodge," Suigetsu shrugged indifferently. In an instant, he was on the floor, holding his head.

"Sasuke," Itachi said.

"I don't deal well with idiots," Sasuke said, "You know that, Itachi,"

"Wait, don't tell me- It was the "sweetie", right?" Suigetsu said, standing up and rubbing a sizable bruise on his head. Itachi sent Sasuke a disapproving look.

"Hey, is this bruising?" Suigetsu said, gingerly pressing the sore spot. Itachi beckoned him forwards, refusing to go to the little hellion himself, even if he was injured. He drew his thumb over the spot and looked into Suigetsu's eyes, checking for signs of concussion. Fortunately (or, in Sasuke's opinion, unfortunately), there was no further damage than a swollen bruise, and the swelling was impossible to notice in light of the teenager's already overly-swollen head. Itachi drew away immediately.

"You're fine," he said shortly, "Where did Kisame disappear to?"

Sometime during their conversation (or, rather, exchange of insults), Kisame had wandered off. He probably thought he was funny, leaving Itachi and Sasuke with _his _relative.

Suigetsu wasn't listening.

"You know...," he said with a leer that made Itachi take a very quick step backwards from him, "If this thing between you and my uncle doesn't work out-,"

"You'll certainly be the last person I call," Itachi said, walking out of the hall in an effort to locate Kisame. He found him in the living room, wearing a pair of loose track pants as he drank a glass of raw eggs and read a book. He still wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Your nephew is flirting with me," he announced, "I left him with Sasuke,"

"Poor Sasuke," Kisame sniggered, downing the eggs. Itachi almost grimaced, but restrained the impulse to do so...barely.

"You realise, I hope, that we'll have to keep this facade up even when at home now," Itachi pointed out, seating himself on Kisame's legs. Kisame looked up at him.

"Yeah," he said, not seeming overly concerned. He placed his glass on the table and looked at Itachi properly.

"So you're moving into my room, then?" he asked. Itachi nodded.

"We'll also have to let him catch us doing things that couples do, so that he doesn't become suspicious," Itachi explained. Kisame nodded.

"Yeah, I figured that out the moment he got here," he said, "It's not a hardship for you, is it?"

It was a genuine question.

"No," Itachi said quietly, "Not at all,"

Kisame grinned at him and returned to his book, leaving Itachi to sit on his legs and feel morose about that fact that he was living a lie. A lie that he desperately wanted to be true.

"Oh, Uncle!" Suigetsu's sing-song voice cooed, "Where _have _you escaped to?"

Itachi heard footsteps outside the door, but paid little attention to them; Kisame was staring at him strangely, and kept glancing at the door. Just as it began to slide open, Kisame threw his book aside with a loud thud. Itachi was about to reprimand him about his treatment of the book, but he couldn't get many words out past Kisame's tongue as it was thrust into his mouth when Kisame hauled Itachi into his lap just as Suigetsu walked in.

Itachi froze, his hands braced on the couch arm on either side of Kisame's head, tasting a hint of raw egg on Kisame's tongue. Despite this, the kiss was pleasant. He felt his face heat up, his skin tingling, as his pulse beat an unsteady rhythm. There were gentle fingers in his loose hair, the palms of each large hand cradling his cheeks while Kisame sucked Itachi's tongue in a way that had Itachi's fingers trembling as they clenched on the leather sofa.

"Oh. Found you,"

Itachi pulled away with a wet noise that, far from repulsing him, made him want to dive back in and kiss Kisame again. But he didn't. Instead, he turned his attention to Suigetsu, who was grinning like an old man at a strip club.

"What do you want?" he asked rudely. He wanted Suigetsu to think that he was angry that they'd been interrupted. Which he was.

"Your brother tried to strangle me, so I decided to leave him alone," Suigetsu said, cleaning his nails with a toothpick, "He is your brother, right? He's like you, only more manly and pissy-er,"

Itachi nodded and stole Kisame's book to avoid speaking with the teenager. Kisame pinched his thigh in retaliation. Evidently, he didn't much like being left to deal with his nephew alone.

"If you guys ever want a threesome-,"

"We won't," Itachi answered before Kisame could. He never really knew what Kisame would say next, and he didn't relish the thought that Kisame might give his nephew false hope of a sordid arrangement.

"What happened to that Blackville chick?" Suigetsu asked Kisame, "You told Gran you were in love with her,"

"That was to get her off my ass about settling down," Kisame snorted darkly, "Anita was obsessed. I kept her around for a while-,"

"For the sex?"

"For the sex," Kisame admitted, "But then she bugged my phone, so I got rid of her,"

"Women aint worth the trouble," Suigetsu declared, gesturing expansively as Itachi did his best to keep that voice from penetrating his brain, "Hookers are worth the money...and the medical bills for STI treatment,"

He was now fiddling with a silver framed photograph that sat on the mantelpiece, so he didn't notice the way Itachi tensed, fingers crinkling the pages of the book he held in his grasp. Kisame didn't notice, either. This affected Itachi more than it should have. The book dropped into his lap as he absentmindedly scratched at his wrist where a faint rash was developing. It had been coming on for a few days, and it was something he'd had since his childhood. It was simply a bizarre nervous reaction that arose from Itachi being placed in stressful situations. Itachi had always been nervous as a child, because he was so concerned with living up to his father's expectations, and that was when the itchy rash had begun to develop, particularly during the run up to exams.

His wrist was a blotchy red when Kisame grasped his hand, halting his movements. He didn't care overly. Suigetsu's use of the derogatory term for one who is paid to have sex with another had brutally driven home the reality of his current occupation. He'd tried to sugar-coat it to Sasuke and to himself, but he was really no better than those girls who stood on corners in the orange glare of streetlamps, clad in hotpants and boots even in glacial weather.

"I know what you're thinking," Kisame snarled into Itachi's hair suddenly as Suigetsu obliviously kept up a steady stream of inane chatter. His hand tightened around Itachi's wrist, "Don't. You did what you thought you had to, and I can respect that,"

He linked his hand with Itachi's and squeezed it softly. Of course, _his _softly still made Itachi wince slightly, but it was the thought that counted. And, anyway, that strength was highly arousing.

"I suppose I did not realised exactly what I was doing," Itachi whispered back cryptically, trying to keep Suigetsu from overhearing anything that would lead him to the truth.

"If it's any consolation, there's no such thing as a virgin whore, so you're pretty safe in that regard," Kisame told him seriously, his voice so quiet that Itachi had to strain his ears to catch those words. They immediately reassured him, which was odd, as Itachi would have been unconvinced had another said the same thing to him.

"I'm going to make breakfast," he said, getting up off Kisame's legs where he had been sitting the entire time, "Do you want anything before you leave for training?"

"You mean you haven't eaten yet?" Kisame asked, eyes narrowed and arms folded across his broad chest. He was able to make Itachi feel guilty with an ease that Sasuke could not.

"I'm going to now," Itachi said to Kisame, who had sat up to glare at him.

"Make me some too, sugar," Suigetsu grinned, reclining on the sofa. Kisame kicked him off and stretched his legs out again, preventing the teenager from sitting back down. The book Itachi had taken from Kisame hit Suigetsu dead in the middle of the forehead. He stared at Itachi with slack-jawed shock. His suspicion didn't abate even when Itachi put on his best look of innocence.

Nevertheless, Itachi did make Suigetsu breakfast, ignoring the way Sasuke, who was sitting in the kitchen, fumed over this. He supposed that some of Sasuke's ire could be attributed to the fact that Suigetsu had joined them in the kitchen and was now pestering Sasuke unabashedly. Apparently, Itachi's lack of interest had led him to return his attentions to the more volatile brother, in spite of the higher risk of dismemberment. Itachi knew the consequences were going to be disastrous, and quickly hid Kisame's knife block in the cupboard beneath the sink, along with the meat cleaver and mallet.

"So...you single?" Suigetsu asked Sasuke bluntly.

"No," Sasuke said. Itachi threw a smirk over his shoulder. Sasuke was single, but was obsessed with his best friend, Naruto, who still hadn't cottoned on to Sasuke's connection with his previous girlfriends' decisions to break up with him. For all intents and purposes, Sasuke was as good as married to the lively teenager, who was annoying at first but always managed to worm his way into peoples' hearts.

"Yeeeeees you are," Suigetsu grinned, poking Sasuke in the arm.

"Don't touch me," Sasuke retorted frostily. Suigetsu backed off, but that grin seemed painted on.

"Ok, say I believe you," he said, "When do I get to meet this _lurve _machine?"

Sasuke's eyebrow twitched and Itachi hastily forced down laughter at the thought of Naruto being a love machine.

"You don't," Sasuke said.

"But-,"

"Look, do you want me to bludgeon you with the salt shaker?" Sasuke finally snapped, shaking the little glass and metal container. Suigetsu, appearing scared, backed off immediately, leaving Sasuke to brood in silence.

"I've invited a few friends over tonight," Sasuke announced after he had stared at the red-flecked marble counter top for a while.

"Did you ask Kisame?" Itachi asked as the omelette sizzled behind him.

"Tch, no," Sasuke snorted, "He's out all day anyway, right?"

"How many friends have you invited over?" Itachi asked.

"Just Naruto and Karin," Sasuke shrugged, "They can keep secrets, and they won't tell the world that we're living here,"

Itachi opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short when Kisame walked in. He had his duffle bag slung over one massive shoulder, despite its size. He walked to Itachi's side and allowed the bag to dangle from his hand, as though he was holding nothing more than a generic satchel.

"I'll be back before six," he promised, "What's for dinner?"

"Why do you assume that I will be making dinner?" Itachi asked, leaning back in his chair so that he could look Kisame in the face and quirking an eyebrow. Suigetsu sniggered something that sounded like "You're in the doghouse now!"

"Because I can't cook for shit, and your cooking is amazing," Kisame grinned. He had placated Itachi, and he knew it.

"Imma write that one down," Suigetsu declared, "Sweetie, you got a pen?"

"If I did have one, don't you think it would be in your forehead by now?" Sasuke replied, clearly angered. It was very easy to see the difference between a Sasuke-Naruto argument, and a Sasuke-anyone else argument in situations such as this. Sasuke and Naruto were never really aggressive (at least by their standards), and their fighting was flirty and comical- whereas a fight between Sasuke and anyone else was certain to leave Itachi scraping up bits of the victim for days to come.

"Ah, kids, eh?" Kisame said mockingly. Sasuke glared sullenly, and picked up his book, perching his glasses back on his nose. Itachi could see Suigetsu had several things to say about Sasuke's glasses, all of which had something to do with sex and were not appropriate for the breakfast table, and he therefore gave Suigetsu a warning look. Luckily, the teenager had decided that he'd pushed his luck far enough already this morning, and remained silent.

"Well, I'm going," Kisame said, planting a lingering kiss on Itachi's surprised lips, "See you later,"

Itachi saw Sasuke's fingers tighten on the book as Kisame left but didn't say anything. He collected the omelette from the pan, ensuring that it was perfectly cooked, and slid it onto a plate which he then gave to Suigetsu.

"I can't stand that guy," Sasuke finally said when he, clearly, couldn't contain himself any longer, "Why does he have to do that shit to you?"

"We're dating," Itachi said tersely, beating some eggs.

"Oo thud ge uth oo i," Suigetsu said through a mouthful off egg, tomato and spinach. Sasuke looked disgusted, and a yelp of pain told Itachi that he'd smacked Suigetsu over the teenager's appalling lack of manners.

"In English, please," Sasuke sneered.

"You should get used to it," Suigetsu said, "That's nothing compared to what I saw this morning. They were practically grinding on each other on the couch,"

Itachi froze, nearly dropping the spatula. Suigetsu sniggered to himself with apparent amusement, but his expression transformed into a worried one when Sasuke shoved his chair back with an ear-splitting screech and stalked out with murder in his gaze. Itachi waited for until he'd had his own breakfast, hoping Sasuke would cool down in that time, and turned the cooker off before going to look for him.

He didn't find him, even when he looked in all of the rooms in the house, but there was a terse note on the mantle piece that Sasuke had evidently written in great haste. It was also evident that Sasuke had been furious, judging by the way the jerky, spiky characters were nearly gouged into the page, and the terse nature of the letter.

_Itachi, I'm going to see Naruto. This house is getting to me. You can explain yourself when I get back. Love Sasuke._

"Aww, damn!" Suigetsu said, on his tiptoes as he looked over Itachi's shoulder while still eating his omelette off the plate he held, "He wrote it in Chinese!"

"It's Japanese," Itachi replied.

"Whatever," Suigetsu said, "The point is I can't read it,"

"I think that was the reason he wrote it in Japanese," Itachi sighed, feeling a headache coming on. His fingers lingered on the characters that spelled "_Love Sasuke_". He smiled. So Sasuke wasn't as upset as he'd appeared. Which meant that he would have cooled down a lot by tonight.

"I'm going out," Suigetsu announced abruptly, patting his full belly fondly, "Don't wait up for me, honey,"

"You really wouldn't know what to do if I _did _wait up for you, would you, little boy?" Itachi smirked. Suigetsu gaped for a while and, upon realising that he had no appropriate comeback that didn't involve him blustering about his bedroom skills, he turned and walked briskly out with a sullen pout on his face.

The remainder of Itachi's day was very quiet with all three troublemakers out of the house. It began snowing again as he sat on the sofa in front of the fire, reading a thick book while an old gramophone played Christmas songs from his grandparents' era. Itachi would never have dreamed that Kisame would have owned something like this, but he was pleasantly surprised when he found it in a cupboard whilst looking for a book to read, and had immediately decided to use it.

By the time Itachi looked up, it was dark, and he discovered that he'd missed lunch and it was nearing dinner time. Walking into the kitchen, he flicked on the lights and decided to get a quick snack before he started on dinner. As he munched on a jam-smothered bagel, he looked through the cupboards and fridge for ideas of what he could make for dinner. He found a beautiful beef braising steak at the back of the fridge that was due to expire the next day, and decided to use it, as he abhorred wastefulness.

It took him a while to decide what to do with the steak. Finally, a picture on a cookbook gave him an idea, and he set about making a plump, crisp beef and onion pie.

He'd just made honey roast parsnips to go with the pie when Sasuke walked in. His cheeks and nose were ruddy from the cold, and, despite his thick woollen hat, his hair had little snowflakes trapped in it.

"Naruto, you little fucker! That's my fucking mince pie!"

Ah, there was Karin's sweet meek voice now. He had missed it so. She stormed in as Naruto leapt into the room with a cackle of glee and hid behind Itachi, sticking his tongue out.

"Naruto!" she roared as he made a show of licking the little pie in front of her.

"Naruto-kun," Itachi sighed, "Please act your age,"

"I can't help it if she's hot when she's angry," Naruto cooed, batting his eyelashes. Itachi could tell that he was joking, but Sasuke's angry, hurt face told him that Sasuke had taken Naruto seriously.

"Indeed?" Itachi snorted, "I thought you said her glasses made her look like Professor Trelawney from Harry Potter,"

Naruto tittered and gulped as Karin seemed to blow up like a pufferfish, clearly filling her lungs with air so that she could shout as loudly as was possible. Sasuke, however, brightened visibly as he began to pull his thick winter clothes off.

"In the coat closet, Sasuke," Itachi instructed as he began to mix the gravy, before Karin could begin screaming obscenities. He would have preferred to make the gravy from scratch, but he had no meat juices to use, so he had resorted to using packet gravy. He hated processed food. Who knew what the manufacturers put into it.

"Where's the coat closet?" Sasuke asked.

"I'll show you," Itachi said, leaving the kettle on the counter and taking Naruto's and Karin's coats from them.

"Thanks, Itachi!" Naruto chirped, "What's for dinner?"

"Learn some manners, you little twerp!" Karin squawked, smacking him.

While Naruto protested against his abuse, Itachi led his brother into the hall and opened the closet, showing Sasuke where he could put his clothes.

"What happened between you and Kisame this morning?" Sasuke asked, making a face when he mentioned Kisame's name, as though it physically sickened him to say it.

"We have to maintain our cover now that Suigetsu is here," Itachi explained, his chest feeling tight at the thought of everything being an act.

"I'm not stupid," Sasuke said, "I know that you have to maintain your cover. But Suigetsu made it sound as though you were enjoying it a little too much. I don't want you to get hurt when he dumps you for a blonde and plastic supermodel,"

Ouch. It was interesting that Sasuke's comment had physically _hurt_. There was a sharp ache in Itachi's chest. He wanted to deny Sasuke's words, but he knew they were true. Itachi wasn't what he used to be. His hair was still sleek and beautiful, but his eyes were tired, and he had deep creases beneath them that he knew no amount of anti-wrinkle cream or eyelift cream would be able to erase. And he was skinny. He wasn't blond, or curvy, or pretty. And, soon, Kisame would realise that, and he'd get somebody who was _all _of those things, knowing that he could afford an expensive piece of arm candy. Certainly, Kisame wasn't exactly attractive in the conventional sense, but he had money, and that would get him any woman (or man) he wanted, regardless of his looks.

Itachi had been starved of any kind of human contact for so long that it seemed cruel to hand him an opportunity to feel the love of another and the support that Sasuke couldn't quite give before ripping it away. But he knew it was inevitable that this would be what happened. Kisame didn't love him, and Itachi didn't love Kisame. They'd only met recently, afterall. But Itachi was confident that he cared for Kisame in a way that was too close to love for his comfort. Kisame was the first person to actually view Itachi with more than sympathy or derision since his parent's deaths. But he knew, with utmost certainty, that Kisame didn't see Itachi as anything more than good company and a convenient way to announce his sexuality. Itachi bit his lip.

"Itachi, are you ok?" Sasuke asked, grabbing his shoulder harshly, "You're clutching your chest! Are you ok?"

Itachi nodded jerkily. _Why _did he have to get upset here and now? He'd been through worse. He was a survivor. He hadn't let anything make him cry before, not even his parents' deaths and Sasuke's sad eyes as he'd asked why kaa-san didn't come to read him a bedtime story anymore. Yet he now felt hot wetness welling up, blurring his gaze. A droplet escaped, dripping down his cheek.

"Itachi!" Sasuke called, sounding scared, "For fuck's sake, Itachi, snap out of it!"

Itachi's cheek stung as Sasuke slapped it. He was brought out of his panic attack swiftly, arriving back on earth with a bump.

"I'm fine, Sasuke," he replied as Sasuke looked horrified by what he'd done. He gently touched Itachi's reddened cheek, remorse bright in his dark eyes. The touch reminded Itachi of Kisame's.

"What's wrong, Itachi?" Sasuke whispered.

"It is nothing, Sasuke," Itachi said quietly.

"Tell me what's wrong!" Sasuke said, his voice rising slightly.

"I suppose the truth hurts," Itachi explained hesitantly.

"I didn't mean- I- well, plastic blondes seem to be his style, rather than genuinely attractive people!" Sasuke stumbled, "And you are attractive! All Uchihas are attractive! Even crazy Uncle Madara back in Japan is attractive, and he's over 80!"

"I don't want to be attractive by other peoples' standards, Sasuke," Itachi explained dully, "I want Kisame to find me attractive,"

"Hm, yes, I can see that," Karin said musingly, circling Itachi as she inspected him. Sasuke hid his eyes behind his hand, as though he didn't want to see what she was going to do next. She had popped up abruptly, and it was clear that she'd been listening to their conversation. For how long, Itachi dreaded to learn.

"Karin, how long have you been listening?" Sasuke hissed with a look of a snake poised to strike.

"I came to see what you were doing about right around the part about plastic blonds and your hot family," Karin grinned toothily. Sasuke visibly relaxed.

"You're not keeping anything from me, are you, Sasuke?" she pouted. Her devotion was a habit she still hadn't grown out of since the days of her obsession with Sasuke, and she had only recently stopped pursuing Sasuke as she began to notice the signs of Sasuke's attraction to Naruto. Itachi supposed that her devotion was a little more real now. It was the devotion of a friend, rather than the fickle loyalty of one with a raging crush.

"If I was, why would I tell you?" Sasuke answered. Karin scowled, turning her red eyes to Itachi and pasting a wide smile back onto her face.

"You know, Itachi," she said sweetly, "I could help you make the most of your _ass_ets,"

If her tone wasn't enough to put him on edge, the cheeky slap she dealt his backside most certainly was.

"Are you flirting with my brother?" Sasuke asked, apparently disturbed.

"Tch, no!" Karin retorted, her hands on her hips as she stared Sasuke down, "He's gayer than a bunch of pink monkeys around a maypole. It would be pointless,"

She waved her hand dismissively, with a smug smirk. Sasuke scowled. The only thing he missed about Karin's obsessive love for him was her previous habit of agreeing with everything he said and her obedience in all matters.

"If your gaydar's so great, why didn't you realise that I'm a flaming shirt-lifter?" Sasuke asked with a smirk. Karin's smile slipped off her face like a bird slides down a window after an unfortunate collision. She pouted at the floor, a sharp glint in her eye.

"Anyway," she said with a scowl, returning to Itachi, "I could make you yummier than triple chocolate fudge cake. I just need you to give me the go ahead,"

"I don't want to change myself drastically," Itachi said slowly, embarrassed that he was close to complying. Sasuke also seemed to be exasperated by the thought, as his low groan suggested.

"I don't want to change you _much_," Karin snorted, shaking her head, "You're perfect the way you are. I just thought about spicing up your wardrobe a little, and maybe getting you a piercing or tattoo, just to make things interesting,"

"Piercing?" Itachi said uneasily.

"Yes," Karin grinned, "Oooh! Through your tongue! You'd look _so _hot!"

She squealed to herself, leaping into the air with a dreamy look on his face. Itachi recoiled, as did Sasuke.

"Absolutely not," Itachi stated, causing her to falter and slump dejectedly.

"B-B-But-,"

"No," Itachi said, "Kisame would sooner laugh at me because I could not speak coherently than find it attractive,"

"He could kiss it better," Karin said coaxingly, making kissing noises. Itachi flushed a little despite his best efforts.

"Please?" she said, "His ex-ex-girlfriend had a tongue bar, and he said he liked it in an interview!"

"I don't like tongue bars," Itachi said, "I'd rather not feel cheap,"

"Maybe you should try it," Sasuke put in, "If Kisame likes it, then...,"

He trailed off, but it was clear what he would have said had Karin not been there: _Then he might want you._

It was a tantalising thought.

But Itachi wasn't going to change himself for Kisame. If Kisame didn't feel more for him than vague interest, that was Kisame's problem, not Itachi's. He knew Kisame thought he was at least attractive, but he didn't exactly ignite much passion in Kisame, whose attentions were teasing at best.

"Honey, I'm _hooooome_!" a familiar voice called.

"Don't touch the gravy," Itachi replied to Suigetsu.

"Shit," Itachi heard Suigetsu mutter before the teenager wandered into the hall, likely in search of the other occupants of the house.

"Where's Uncle Kisame, sweet thang?" he asked Itachi, wrapping an arm around Itachi's waist.

"Move that hand before I break it," Itachi said without skipping a beat. Suigetsu looked like he was debating whether Itachi would follow through with his threat for a moment, and apparently decided that his attentions were going to provoke Itachi to do at least some harm, and quickly withdrew his arm.

"He should be home soon," Itachi continued, leading them into the kitchen, where Naruto was eating a bag of M&Ms as he watched the flat screen TV that was sticking out of the ceiling.

"This house is amazing!" Naruto gushed, spraying chocolate down his front. Karin wrinkled her nose, but Itachi caught Sasuke smiling a little. Sasuke found some strange things endearing.

"Seriously, Itachi, why didn't you fuck a rich guy before?" Naruto demanded, obviously under the impression that his words were not offensive in any way.

"Perhaps that is because I am no gold digger?" Itachi suggested dryly while Karin dealt a neat blow to Naruto's blond head.

"Ma said that you complained when Uncle bought you an Indian takeaway once," Suigetsu sniggered, "You should be draining my Uncle's wealth! What is wrong with you?"

Itachi didn't dignify that remark with a response. Instead, he opened the oven door and peered inside, smiling at the perfect golden pie with satisfaction. He retreated from the oven and pulled the boiling potatoes off the stove prior to draining the water from them with a colander. He then set about making creamy mashed potatoes to go with the rest of the meal, frowning when he realised that the old gramophone had stopped playing a while ago.

"What time is it?" he asked Naruto, who was flicking through the channels and still managing to salivate at the meal at the same time.

"Five to six," Naruto replied, "When's dinner?"

"When Kisame returns," Itachi said, exasperatedly letting out a deep breath through his nostrils.

"Which is now," Suigetsu grinned, "Evening, Uncle! How went the training?"

Itachi looked up so quickly that, for an instant, he feared he'd damaged his neck. Kisame pushed open the door, letting in a blast of winter air and a flurry of snow flakes, with his duffle bag on his shoulder and a sheen of sweat covering his visible skin. Itachi, noting this, immediately scowled. That fool was going to catch pneumonia if he didn't get warmed up soon.

"Hot shower. Now," Itachi commanded, gesturing towards the hall imperiously. Kisame rolled his eyes, but his grin showed that he wasn't chagrined.

"Yes master," he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows that made that comment incredibly suggestive.

"Kisame," Itachi warned, telling himself that the hint of red on his face was caused by his proximity to the oven. Suigetsu guffawed loudly, while everybody else attempted to avoid getting involved.

"I'm going!" Kisame said on his way to the door. He turned to Naruto, who was red with the effort of forcing down laughter.

"I don't even get a hello,"

"Hello, Kisame," Itachi ground out, trying to summon the will to be annoyed, but finding that it was impossible.

"No kiss?" Kisame asked, pouting disturbingly. Itachi's disturbed expression sent him into spasms of laughter that made Itachi's stoic lips waver.

"Come here," he said.

"I don't know, I really need a shower...," Kisame said seriously. Slamming down his potato masher, Itachi marched around the table. With one hand on the back of Kisame's neck, he yanked the man's face down to his level and frustratedly crushed their lips together in a kiss that was anything but playful.

Itachi wasn't certain where his aggressiveness had come from, but he chalked it up to his uncertainty about his importance to Kisame, and his concerns that Kisame would soon decide that he no longer required Itachi's assistance and would drop him like a bad habit.

With that thought, he decided to enjoy this while he could, and deepened the kiss until he felt Kisame's teeth against his lips and Kisame's tongue in his mouth. Nearly shivering with pleasure, Itachi leaned closer until he was flush against Kisame, the scent of sweat and mud filling his nostrils. He would never have thought that something like that could smell nice.

A nervous cough broke the silence. Itachi then realised that they had an audience, and pulled away immediately, avoiding looking at the teenagers who were crowding the kitchen as he tidied his hair. Kisame whistled cheerfully as he retreated upstairs for his shower.

"Young love," Suigetsu sighed, unable to restrain the impulse to make a smart remark. Repeated yelps told Itachi that somebody had taken it upon themselves to convince him that his comments were unwanted.

"Crazy ginger bitch!" Suigetsu shouted.

"It's red, you hideous albino!" Karin shrieked back.

"I don't know...in certain light-,"

"Finish that, and I'll beat you into a pulp, Naruto!" Karin screamed.

"Sorry," Naruto apologised quickly. Sasuke didn't comment, and Itachi thought it was likely that he had merely rolled his eyes.

"Are you girls finished?" Itachi demanded, thrusting cutlery into their hands with such force that he was surprised none of them lost fingers.

"Sorry," Karin muttered. Suigetsu grinned.

"We'll eat as soon as Kisame gets out of the shower," Itachi told them, glancing at the clock, "Sasuke, set the table,"

Sasuke didn't seem to happy with this arrangement, but he dutifully placed the knives and forks in their proper places and then went into the living room to wait until dinner. Itachi put the parsnips in a pyrex dish and slid them into the warm oven to keep warm, while he put a towel on top of the mashed potatoes.

"Suigetsu wants to know if there will be pudding!" Naruto called.

"I haven't made any," Itachi called back as he slipped into the living room and settled himself into a chair.

"Awww!" Naruto moaned.

"Shut up!" Karin said, punching him in the arm. Suigetsu sniggered, and Sasuke brooded.

_All is right with the world_, Itachi thought dryly as he turned the gramophone back on.

"Boring!" Naruto yawned when the old Christmas songs came back on.

"It's not boring, idiot," Sasuke said, harshly cuffing Naruto on the back of the head.

Naruto and Sasuke began to squabble like children, prompting Karin to shout at them, which prompted Suigetsu to make a remark, which prompted her to squabble with Suigetsu. Feeling a headache forming, Itachi turned and stalked out of the room with determination. Kisame was taking too long, and dinner was going to be cold by the time he got out of the shower. The fighting wasn't helping.

"Kisame?" he called, rapping his knuckles on the door, "Are you finished?"

"I'm busy," Kisame called back, his voice just discernable over the sound of the shower.

"Doing what?" Itachi asked, "You have been in there for three quarters of an hour!"

"Jacking off," Kisame answered honestly. Itachi's cheeks flared colourfully.

"Dinner will be cold soon," he said.

As he hurried down two flights of stairs, he thought that he should have realised that Kisame would be sexually frustrated. He supposed that he should have been glad that Kisame was being faithful (if it was possible for Kisame to be faithful to him when they weren't even dating), but he only felt guilty. If Kisame didn't have a lover, Itachi should have become his lover, but he hadn't thought of that option.

He would have to consider it. No, there was no question of whether or not he should. It was a question of when. He didn't want to become intimate with Kisame if the man didn't see him as a real lover, but he'd have to. If not, Kisame would eventually slake his lusts elsewhere, and Itachi couldn't let Kisame go to another. He couldn't. It didn't matter that their relationship was a farce for the media. To Itachi, it was all too real.

...

I know, I take a long time, don't I? Well, to be honest, I was stuck in a rut when it came to this fic, and I'm not sure if I'm really out of it. Nevertheless, I hope you all like.


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